


Revolution of the Beasts

by Theawester



Series: The Chronicles of the Diana [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love, Part 2, Political Drama, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawester/pseuds/Theawester
Summary: The call of the horn didn't just apply to the Kings and Queens of old. It brought with it's call the Diana. The woman who is told to be Aslan's chosen one. The almost High Queen. But when she comes, she brings war with her. She is Catalina Winchester, the strategic mastermind behind the revolution, the Diana, the almost High Queen.
Relationships: Caspian/Susan Pevensie, Peter Pevensie/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Chronicles of the Diana [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473473
Kudos: 19





	1. There's No Place Like Home

_Former General_

_Protector of the North Mountains_

_High Queen Catalina Pevensie _

_The Diana _

My fingers traced over the purple ink in my notebook, my heart clenching in my chest.

_Child, _

Aslan’s voice called to me occasionally since I had returned, guiding me. I put down my notebook on the kitchen table and leaned back in my chair, looking at the popcorn ceiling of our apartment to submit myself to the great lion,

_Be brave and very courageous!_

My lips parted in a huff with my head lulling to the side, my pen tap, tap, tapping the tabletop from my hand.

“Somebody’s anxious.” Johanna stood in the kitchen doorway, watching me.

“Does she need a hug?” Michael, Johanna’s boyfriend, slid around her with a sly grin. He was tall, dark, and handsome- her description, not mine. Michael was a kind and soft soul, pairing nicely with hers. He had blended nicely with our friend group over the last four months. I smiled softly at him and shook my head. If somebody touched me, the dam would break, and I was only staying sane by keeping it pent up. 

“We heard you last night; the nightmares have been getting worse, haven’t they?” Johanna gently asked before sitting next to my place at the head of the table. She picked up my notebook and hummed.

“As the dark circles under my eyes aren’t enough of a tell,” I joked poorly. “Even my professor pulled me aside to talk to me about it.” It was awkward and borderline embarrassing as she noted my increasingly sloppy work and my drooping eyes during the lecture.

“Have you set up an appointment with that therapist?” Michael asked, shifting against the far wall.

I looked at Johanna and exhaled, “I don’t think I can.”

“You won’t know until you try, kid,” Michael spoke. My fingers bumped over the rise and fall of the edge of the table. I wanted to go and try, but what I had experienced was farther than left field. The therapists were more likely to misdiagnose me and pump me full of the wrong drugs than to actually be helpful. What I had experienced squeezed me between a rock and a hard place, compressing me to my limits and then some. It _hurt_.

“Hey,” Johanna touched my twitching hand, causing me to look up at her. “You’re amazing. A powerhouse of a woman. None of this was your fault; you did the best you could.” As the words settled, my chest constricted, and my breaths became thicker. I didn’t dare speak to not sob in front of them, so I just squeezed her hand in thanks. “We’re going out tonight; we’ll be home before one. Do me a favor?” I looked at her as she slid the notebook at me. “Don’t beat yourself up. Do some self-care before you go to sleep.” They left the apartment, Elizabeth back home for the long weekend, and I was left in the silence. I lifted up my notebook to see Johanna’s plain print marking over my purple pen.

_<strike>Former General</strike>_ Determined and disciplined

_ <strike>Protector of the North Mountains</strike> _ _ Fierce and loyal_

_ <strike>High Queen Catalina Pevensie </strike> _ _Kind and honorable_

_ <strike>The Diana</strike> _ _ Human_

The love Johanna showed me created a warm swirling in my chest. She was typically rough and tumble as far as showing affection. Still, when it came down to it, she was more than capable of delivering it. And Johanna was right, as per usual. If I didn’t have it right, I knew she would. I crossed my legs under the table, a sting on my thigh. A sharp shiver went up to my spine as the pain registered and my legs uncrossed. I rubbed the pain away as another quick pinch came to my neck.

“Ow! The hell?” I hissed, rubbing the spot. Lighter little nips licked at my foot, my calf, my bicep, while a few well-timed larger nips bit like a Razer scooter to my heel, a sharp tug on my ear, and a tug of my braid. What the hell was going on? A light breeze drifted over the kitchen, blowing my papers off, blowing my skirt up.

Magic, I realized. A familiar excitement came over me as the adrenaline kicked in, my legs ready to run, the blood rushing to my ears. I relished as my body reared to go. The drywall cracked, the fan dropping to the floor at the end of the room caused me to jump, knocking the chair over. My laptop flew across the room with the thawing chicken and its pan, shattering on the exposed studs. The fridge slid, cushioned by the fluttering insulation. The stand mixer wiggled in the peripheral of my vision. Out of instinct-and instinct alone- I brought up my arms to block my face as it slammed into my side, forcing me into the soft sand below me.

The groan from my lips was deep and downright painful as I laid in the cold sand for a moment. Sea salt danced in the air, waves crashed in the distance, but it was far too dark to be the beach of Narnia. Raising my head, I brushed off my cheek and broke into a grin. Bright light pointed me home, guiding me to the Eastern Sea, beaconing me back to my dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a review or comment! Anything helps!


	2. Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

The water was warm as it licked my bare feet. The sun was kind, not too harsh as the wind blew from the west, storm weather. My neck relaxed for the first time in a long, long time as deep anxiety slowly seeped out of my legs into the water, washing out to the Land Beyond the Sea. The sea was vast and strange from here, but still slightly familiar. I looked to the massive cliffs behind me, blocking the sun with my hand over my eyes. I needed to scale it, but because I was alone, I needed to be careful. There were no cliffs in Narnia. Not unless you lived in the north. But if you lived in the north, there would be mountains, much less the sea.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to myself. A large stone loomed over the edge of the cliff, too smooth to be natural. The ruins were new. I didn’t have shoes when I left, but the flats I had in Spare-Oom wouldn’t do me much help climbing that beast. Finding a sharp rock, I tore at my skirt to create at least a thin barrier to protect my feet, tying the strips over the top of my foot and around the palms of my hands.

After surveying the cliffside, I picked the most comfortable spot to climb and begin. At the end of the day, I was still a mountain girl, and climbing cliffs was second nature. Granted, I hadn’t climbed anything since before the Giant War. My muscles burning as I rounded the top, chest heaving. I rolled over on my back, away from the edge, huffing, allowing my body to take deep and greedy breaths. Apple trees lined the far end of the ruins. But apple trees only grew in two regions in Narnia. Neither of those areas had been ruined. Once I could breathe without the burn in my lungs, I stood up and walked to the nearest stone relic and let my fingers roam over the smooth surface. Smooth lines and a clean break. What could have caused this? I picked an apple from the nearest tree and wondered the ruins before stopping on a small dais. Four stumps overgrew with vines. I stood at the bottom, overlooking the sea.

_Ladies circled the room in their gowns, gossiping and romancing while the men shook hands and talked politics. I stayed off to the side, talking to Mancha and Orious as Mr. Tomas cleared his throat and announced the Kings and Queens._

The glass ceiling, tall columns, glittering gowns. Cair Paravel. The dais was overgrown but still held the same elegance. I went up to Peter’s throne and stood in front of it. I almost had it all. Almost. I sighed and looked up. Narnia brought me back for a reason. I needed to find out why. 

“Why now, Aslan?” I mumbled. “What’s going on?” Thunder rumbled in the distance, warning me as the skies to the west turned depressingly dark. I needed to go underground. It wasn’t worth it to go back down to the beach cave. I swiftly tried locating the old treasury entrance with success, moving the old wood door and pulling out my lighter from my pocket, useful for making friends at a college party and for minimal light sources.

The dust and webbed unknown were thick in my nose as I tested the shotty steps into the darkness. The spider webs made my toes curl and bile rock to my throat as I wiggled a stick to collect the spider webs on. A ring of powder allowed me to light the room up to showcase the vast treasures. The dust has dulled the shine of weapons and art alike, clinging to threads on hung tapestries and metal shields with a lion imprinted on them equally. Precious metals lost their glint due to dust and webs of the past. I moved the gate at the hinge point and entered the central area. Inside there were four standing statues and one kneeling and praying- the Pevensies and one almost Pevensie.

My feet stopped on their own accord before Peter’s statue. He was every bit handsome in stone as he was in real life- but he left me. Naked in his own bed, he stole my heart and returned to Spare Oom, leaving me with a country at war and the revolting lords. Tears welled in my eyes. I would not cry for that boy- he didn’t deserve my tears.

I traced over the left hand where the masons had created a wedding band. My statue would have one, probably. I sniffled and rolled my shoulders back and moved to my own chest. I snagged my favorite sword, the one I died with, and a shirt and pants with thigh-high boots. In my chest, a small wood box glinted, capturing my attention. I had forgotten about it. My chest constricted. With shaking hands, I pulled out my engagement band.

_ “Do you want the throne?”_

Would Peter come back to me? Could I handle seeing him again? I found a small chain and threaded it through my ring to wear around my neck. Regardless of Peter using and discarding me, it was my one claim to the throne, to power. Who knows if it would save my life?

I wasn’t enough for the crown, for Aslan, or Peter apparently. I was tired and frustrated as my stomach feel, tears welling in my eyes. My ring weighed down my hand and burned with tears in my eyes. Why couldn’t I be like my roommates? Content in their lives. I loved him with every ounce of my being. He used me and left me, playing every little bit of my trust. Tears slid elegantly down my skin as my chest tightened, and I succumbed to the pain for once for the first time in a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a review!


	3. She Doesn't Even Go Here!

By dusk the next day, I set foot upon a large clearing due north. In a few hours, the mountains would be in full glory. An arrow hissed through the air, nicking my neck and landing in the tree on my right. I put a hand on my hilt, turning to bear witness to a female centaur. Warmblood trickled down my collar bone. I was expecting a centaur to find me along my way; if anyone were willing to help, it would be them. They had the most loyalty to the throne. They would still stand with me. Maybe. She wore leather for armor and fashioned her hair down around her shoulders. I lifted my hands, slowly pulling out my sword and tossing it to her. 

“Peace, milady!” I held up my hands as she walked towards me, snarling. A hint of confusion rang in her eyes. Alan, I prayed, please be an ally.

“You’re not a Telmarine?” I narrowed my eyes at her. Am I a Telmar? I most certainly did not look like one.

“Telmarines in Narnia? They don’t live in Narnia, much less this deep in the heartland,” I spoke. The centaur frowned and picked up my sword, looking at the handle. St. Nick gifted it to be my first Christmas. The hilt had my symbol on it, along with other Narnian runes. 

“What are you then?” She glared at me as another creature came into view.

“Nightbrooke, let me see that sword.” A male centaur stepped into the clearing. He looked over the symbol and looked at me. 

“Where did you get this, daughter of Eve?”

“My treasury. It’s mine. Picked it up when I got here.” I dotted the scratch on my neck to guarantee that it was beginning to clot. I rubbed the access red into my pants.

“You expect me to believe that you’re the Diana?” He crossed his arms. I smiled and spoke in Narnian. 

“I was told by Orious years ago that Artemia was back in the Snelthol constellation. That night I became not a Diana, but the Diana.” I switched back into my native tongue. “I won the Giant war after months of holding off the Queen of the Fae.” I dipped down my shirt to reveal the long scar. “My name is General Catalina Winchester. The Diana.” The centaur smiled and handed me back my sword. 

“Artemia has moved once again. This time, in the Tallash constellation. I didn’t know she married, though.” He looked back at Nightbrooke. She bowed low before me, as did her male companion. I shifted and held my head a little higher, regardless of not being deserving of their respect. I let Narnia fall to waste. The Narnians warranted better from the lot of us lousy excuses for leaders. Yet, the High King was still giving me secondhand prestige in our parting. They stood up and made their introductions. 

“That’s Glennstorm. I’m Nightbrooke. We are on our way to the council meeting. Is that where you were headed?” I shrugged at him. 

“If that’s where Narnians are going, I’ll go too.” Glennstorm nodded at my response and turned from me. 

“We head south then! We don’t assemble often. Larger numbers mean a greater chance for Telmarine attacks.” We entered back into the woods, moving south. 

“Telmarines? What happened?” I climbed over a fallen tree. “And why are the trees dead? They aren’t moving?” I stopped at Glennstorm’s response. The Telmarines killed everyone? It was my fault- I left. Died. It was my fault. Too wrapped up in Peter and Faramir and surviving, I couldn’t carry the throne. They died because of me. I did that. I killed them. I opened the throne up for shoddy influencers and couldn’t quench the civil war. Breathing became hard as my thoughts swarmed. I killed these people. I destroyed the Narnian way of life. I could have saved them by complying with the lords. I was the one who left them. This was my fault. Tears welled in my eyes as I coughed, trying to breathe. My chest was tight, and I stumbled into a trunk. God, my side hurt still.

“Milady?” Nightbrooke touched my shoulder gently. I exhaled sharply and looked up to her while rolling my shoulders back. I needed to get it together. I had a job to do. No use fretting about the past. I needed to get it together.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry.” I continued onwards, ignoring the invading doubting voices. These woods were silent as we followed the mountains south to the dancing lawn. About a mile away, creatures spoke under the full moon. The council would either accept me or deny me, and I hoped that whoever Glennstorm was, he was a good man and carried a strong influence amongst my people. 

“That’s the so-called Prince Caspian. Trufflehunter and Nickabrick. Though, I don’t know where Trumpkin is. We are the last to arrive.” The lawn was much different than I remember it. It wasn’t as spacious, and it didn’t move like it used to. The Telmarine man in the clearing glanced at me with questioning eyes. Handsome enough, though not as stunning as some of the other men I have met in my lifetime. His thick dark hair framed his face nicely as his dark scarred eyes darted over my form. He looked like the ambassador from Colermine. Narnians around us spoke either about me or the so-called ‘prince.’ I roamed around lightly, taking note. The numbers were small, yet the few were strong. I can work with this. The idea alone that my grand country, prosperous and healthy, has been stripped down to this. Nagging voices circled my head, all saying the same thing, your fault. I knew it was a bad idea to get so wrapped up in the monarchy in the first place. If I simply returned to the northlands and rebuilt my home, would there be more of us? This couldn’t be just it. Where were the rest of us? My throat constricted, and my lungs shrunk up. I needed to calm down and get it together.

“Is this all that is left of us?” I looked to Glennstorm with tears in my eyes. He shook his head.

“These are the generals and leaders of each clan. This meeting is to decide if we declare war or not against the Telmarines.” I nodded, a sense of relief washing over my shoulders.

“Who brought the Telmarine before us?” A hag hissed. I leaned against the tree, watching. “And who is this girl? Archenlander? Telmarine? Lone Islander?” I pushed off and stood in the center, addressing the council. 

“My name is General Catalina Winchester. The Diana.” An old Beaver waddled over to the center to stand in front of me.

“My thrice great grandmother served in the High King’s palace. Tradition says that she carried a scar down her chest from her time in the Giant War?” I smiled lightly and pulled my shirt to the side to reveal the dark brown gash. If only they knew how I got it while being raped. I still could see her face in my nightmares. Whose face didn’t I witness while I slept? Those who’ve I’ve killed and killers alike. The Beaver smiled brightly and looked to Glennstorm. “Well, centaurs! I bet you didn’t read this in the stars tonight! Ha! I can die a happy woman!” She patted my hand before walking back into the crowd. I chuckled before a mouse bumbled up to me with a familiar feathered ring. 

“You’re from the Cheep clan up north!” I exclaimed, proud to make the connection. The mouse stood with pride and bowed low.

“Reepicheep, milady! I welcome you to Narnia once more.” I thanked him as I looked at Caspian. He hid his nerves well, but I had worked with politicians all my life. I knew when someone was bluffing. 

“Why have you come to the Narnians for aid? Why should we trust you?” I spoke. The young man looked around before speaking his story into the moonlight. His father passed away when he was a child. Miraz, his uncle, took over in the meantime. Then his uncle tried to murder him. He ran to Aslan’s woods and blew Susan’s horn. I thought that I had taken it off of the saddle? Who knows or cares? Irrelevant at this point. Unanswered questions were the reoccurring theme this trip around.

“All this horn proves is that they’ve stolen yet another thing from us!” A dwarf shouted. Nickabrick, I think. Pessimistic. 

“I didn’t steal anything!” Caspian defended himself.

“Didn’t steal anything? Shall we list the things the Telmarines have taken?” The Narnians argued against the Telmarine. I crossed my arms and looked to Caspian. He was scared and trying to find the right words; Aslan help him.

“You would hold me accountable for all the crimes of my people?” He defended himself with narrowed eyes.

“Accountable and punishable!” Nickabrick shouted. If we killed Caspian, Miraz would win. Was Caspian sympathetic towards the Narnian cause? If so, we had to keep him alive. He was the only link to freedom for us. 

“That’s words from you, dwarf. Or have you forgotten that it was your people who fought alongside the White Witch?” Reepicheep bit. I shivered. Jadis. She killed so many people. Family, friends, citizens. I had only made a brief acquaintance in my dreams with her, and that alone spooked me.

“And I’d gladly do it again if it would rid us of these barbarians!” I scoffed at Nickabrick.

“Do it again?” I scoffed. “You didn’t see her behead King Frank and slaughter his grieving, gentile, wife!” She was much worse than some Telmarines.

“Then we are lucky it is not in your power to bring her back. Or do you want us to ask this boy to go against Aslan? Some of you may have forgotten, but we badgers remember well that Narnia was never right except when a son of Adam was king.” Trufflehunter commented. My face fell. A daughter of Aslan should have never become queen in the first place. Caspian looked at me with curious eyes. He wanted to ask me questions. There would be time for that, Aslan permitting. I snapped my eyes to the dwarf once more.

“He’s a Telmarine! Why would we want him as our king?” The dwarf pointed to Caspian. Caspian looked to me one last time before rolling his shoulders back and squaring his shoulders.

“Because I can help you. Beyond these woods, I am a prince. The Telmarine throne is rightfully mine. Help me claim it, and I can bring peace between us.”

“Either we kill him and try taking our freedom in war, or we support him taking back his throne, drawing in sympathizers and supporters for blood claims to the throne. If I’m here, war looms close behind regardless of what we choose.” I spoke, looking into the eyes of my people. 

“It is true. The time is ripe. I watch the skies, for it is mine to watch as it is yours to remember, badger. Tarva, the Lord of Victory, and Alambil, the Lady of Peace, have met, and here a son of Adam has come forth to offer us back our freedom. And, the Diana has answered the horn’s call.” I nodded to Glennstorm, grateful for his input. One of the Narnians in the trees vocalized his concern for the reality of our situation. Could there be peace? 

“Two days ago, I didn’t believe in the existence of talking animals, or dwarfs, or centaurs. Yet, here you are, in strength in numbers we Telmarines could never have imagined. Whether this horn is magic or not, it brought us together. And together, we have a chance to take back what is ours.” Caspian was eloquent and concise. I nodded; it was our only chance. 

“If you blew the horn in the faith of Aslan, then I stand with you as Aslan’s daughter.” I was the first to align myself with Caspian. Glennstorm followed with Reepicheep. War was the accomplice to my spirit, and where I went, she left a trail of blood. It was inevitable. Death was demanding payment, and the war was ready to give it to her, regardless of my participation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a comment!


	4. Achey Breaky Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning- panic attacks and awkward people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning- panic attacks and awkward people.

“It’s just a scratch, Nightbrooke! I’m rusty, is all. I need to brush off the cobwebs.” The centaur woman shook her head at me as we made our rounds with Caspian examining weak defensive points in the woods. Last night we raided the Telmarine’s bridge construction area, looking for weapons. And the Telmarines had graciously let us borrow them with a little physical persuasion from us. I now bore an angry gash on my left arm during a sloppy one on one duel with a guard. I held up a low hanging branch and maneuvered around it, the underbrush crunching under my feet.

The Narnians welcomed me into the army with ease, the centaurs advocating for my involvement as general. Most of them knew me as the woman who won the Giant war, a myth instead of the blood and flesh I was. Over the last few weeks, I had told them most of my story, leaving out a few details towards the end, and listened to them educate me on their history since my first death. 

“I saw the fight; you need to speed up your left initiations. I can help you in the morning before breakfast, general.” Nightbrooke offered. “The hill slopes up this way; let’s go look.” We broke from the group, towards the back of the How. She was one of the few helping me retrain my rusty skills. “This is a good high point for-do you hear that?” I grabbed the low branch of a tree to pass under it and silently moved to hear for whatever that sound was. The sharp clash of metal rang in the distance, my stomach squirming at the possibilities. We took off running towards the sound of swords clashing and Caspian grunting.

Jumping over fallen logs, zagging around tree trunks, stomping through the creek, I moved a branch to the clearing Caspian fought in. It was another human, so I pulled out my throwing dagger and inhaled as I brought it up, exhaling as I released it. Nicking the blonde man’s ear, his shoulders tensed as Caspian froze, holding his enemy’s sword. Old Narnian. Rhindon. Peter’s shoulders were slightly less broad, but his rippling muscles were just the same. I dropped my throwing hand to my side, mouth parting.

Fuck me.

Peter turned around, bleeding ear and all. He was younger. About the same age, I first met him. Baby faced without his signature beard; his eyes were just as stunning as I remembered. I closed my mouth and pressed my palms on my pants. Peter turned and eyed Caspian. He was leaner, baby fat just reminiscent in his cheeks. I missed his beard. My neck burned hot. Why did he have to come back? I pressed my lips together. I deserved better than his abandonment. I wasn’t the same girl he had left alone so long ago. He drunk in my presence and turned back to Caspian. He didn’t seem too shocked to see me there compared to my wide eyes, panting breaths, and shaking hands. 

“High King Peter?” Caspian narrowed his eyes at Peter slightly. 

“I believe you called.” Still a smart ass. Glad that didn’t change, though the tone was sharper. He was here, but it wasn’t the man who had left me in that bed all those years ago. Neither was I the same woman left forsaken. We were both sharper, cruder, shrewder.

“Well, yes, but,” Caspian paused and looked to Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. “I thought you’d be older.” I don’t blame him; they’re old souls trapped in children’s bodies. We all were.

“Well, if you’d like, we can come back in a few years.” Peter sheathed his sword. I took the time to look at my makeshift family. They were younger like me but didn’t seem to bear the dark circles and physical aches like I did. We also faced different traumas.

“No! No, that’s alright. You’re just. You’re not exactly what I expected.” Caspian finished, gawking at Susan. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

“Neither are you.” Edmund sniggered. I looked to Trufflehunter, who stepped into the small clearing. 

“A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes.” I found myself nodding at his words. Wise men knew who to hold close to their chests.

“We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege. Our hearts and swords are at your service.” Reep bowed low to our High King. I smiled at him before looking at my High King. He nodded in understanding before looking at me. His eyes were more tired than he left—the weight destroying him internally. Peter was also struggling with this transition, as well. He deserved it after abandoning me, ass. 

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute!” Lucy tried to whisper to Edmund. My head shook at her, my half tied up hair falling around me—such a terrible whisperer. I chuckled silently, shoulders shaking. Reep drew his sword and jumped around. Peter was still looking at me from the corner of my eye, and my gut rolled above my pelvis.

“Who said that!” Reep demanded, swinging wildly at random groups of Narnians.

“Sorry.” Lucy apologized. So gentle with everyone and pure-hearted that I couldn’t help the soft smile on my face. 

“Oh, uh, your majesty. With the greatest respect, I do believe courageous, courteous, or chivalrous might more befit a knight of Narnia.” Reep was an honorable mouse- noble warrior and leader for his clan. All of that did describe him, but I would have used words like cavalier, chatty, and cocksure.

“Well, at least we know some of you can handle a blade.” Peter complimented before looking back at me.

“You’re the one who’s bleeding.” I snipped. Peter rolled his eyes, smirking at me, fire buzzing in my ears. I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. He didn’t seem to pick up on the pissed-off vibe. My face felt hot.

“We have recently put it to good use in acquiring weapons for your army, sire.” Reep bowed low, presenting his blade, although I was the one who did all of the dirty work behind it. Planning, organizing, doing. I sniggered. Back to being a nobody now. Good. I could give up the responsibility for these people’s lives for once. That thought didn’t settle well in my stomach as my eyes dropped to the ground.

“Good. We are going to need every blade we can get.” Peter pulled my dagger out of the tree next to Caspian and walked up to me, presenting my hilt. “Especially yours.” He whispered. I narrowed my eyebrows again, suspicious of him, and snagged the dagger. Lucy bounced over, dragging me down for a hug. Susan was quick behind, as well. A smile pushed into my face, strained, but there nevertheless.

“Oh! I’ve missed you so much, Catalina!” Lucy gushed. “Nothing's been the same since we got home! Peter's been all kinds of angry." Susan hushed her sister. 

"That's a conversation for behind closed doors, Lu." She whispered. Edmund strolled up to me, pulling me into a hug. 

"Hello, sister." I rested my forehead on his shoulder. 

"I'm not your sister, Ed," I mumbled, the smile crumbling.

"Nonsense. No matter what is up Peter's ass, or what happened after we left, we are still your family, Diana." Edmund gave me a final squeeze before letting me go. "Let's go kick some Telmarine ass, shall we?" I smirked and nodded, following the Narnians back to the How, a heavy lowness bearing down on my stomach, making me feel sick. 

* * *

Darkness pulsed around me like the flames that surrounded the stone table. The sinking, shifting, gut sickness wouldn’t go away. I still felt hot, sick. The table under my thighs helped slightly as I kicked my shoes off, pulling my knees to my chest.

Why did Aslan even bother with the Diana? It’s not like she did anything. She just let kingdoms fall, let others die for what? I was nobody, nothing. Why did he pluck me from Earth and place me here? There weren’t others who were qualified for this? I’m nothing—just a weak girl with nothing to gain and everything to lose. My body shook more than a leaf in a windstorm.

Did Aslan expect me to be some foot soldier for him? I will not be a pawn in these mind games between Aslan and Jadis, whatever pissing contest this was. Tendrils curled around my shoulders to pinch my neck, and they formed a protective shell to hold my stomach and weigh it down. My chest burned with sharp breaths that cut the air.

A hand touched mine, coldness shocking my skin. I jerked away from the sensation, burning. My ears rang. I felt sick—just another thing to be caught and embarrassed by, a stupid panic attack.

“Oh, this can’t be good.” Edmund lifted his hands slightly to show me his palms. I looked away, burying my head between my kneecaps, taking in generous poisonous breaths, shuddering silently. Nobody should see me like this. I had hidden them well from my roommates, and this should have been easier. What a disgrace. A fallen queen, a spiritual pawn. “Catalina, I’m going to sit next to you now.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t. I wanted this to be one of those nightmares. I didn’t want this pain to be real.

“Catalina, I need you to sit up for me,” Edmund muttered. I could feel his soft presence jerk and push against those dark tendrils. Tears slid down as the pinching and burning in my chest crawled creepily up my sternum into my throat. “Come on; I won’t lead you awry.” I nodded and lifted. I knew my body was shaking, but I couldn’t feel it. I gasped and curled my nails into my skin.

“There she is,” Edmund’s palm reached for me. “I’m going to touch your shoulder now.” Why would anyone want me to be here? “I need you to breathe.”

“I,” Inhale. “Can’t.” Shuddering exhale. I felt his hand slide down my arm to take my hand and squeeze. I whimpered, closing my eyes and squeezing back.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. I nodded and pushed my hand against my chest, putting an opposing pressure against the current constricting chokehold on my chest. “I can’t protect you from your head,” A finger poked between my eyebrows, rubbing away the tension there. “But I’ll protect you from everything else. You’re safe.”

This wasn’t the end of the world. This was just a moment. Edmund was right; this was all a head game. I stopped with the questions, exhaustion settling deep into my bones. Edmund took my hand and placed it on his collar bone, coaching my breathing, being patient with me.

The fire crackled in the distance, and my cheeks felt sticky. “I’m sorry,” I admitted to Edmund, letting go of him to wipe my face.

“I’ve had them too.”

“Had what?” Peter’s voice echoed in the small room, causing my spine to tense up. The table had a dark red stain where my toes sat. My breathing picked up lightly, so I closed my eyes to focus on breathing.

“Oh, Catalina,” Edmund whispered before kissing my head and standing up. I shook my head and felt the hysterics arise. I was so tired. “Peter, can you meet me on the lookout? I’ll be up in a minute or two.” I curled my legs back into my chest and placed my forehead on my knees- I could feel my body rocking. Edmund pushed my legs down and placed a hand on my back.

“Are you crying?” Peter scoffed. “Did Edmund make you cry?” I felt a pressure push against my lower back as my chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Peter, not now. She’s managing it.”

“She’s shaking! Catalina, what’s,” Peter grabbed my arm, freezing. Was I shaking? That awful ringing was back. I felt nauseous. “What’s wrong? Edmund, I swear if you did something, I’ll,” I felt like I was going to pass out; I was swimming. Dark tendrils curling into my throat, choking me.

“Get off of me! Both of you!” I yelped in a hiccup. Weak. Pathetic. National Embarrassment. I crawled off the stone table, wiping my eyes, brushing past the two other bodies in the room-how; long have they been here for? I swayed down the halls, eyes trained on the floor as I walked to the river bed and sat in it. It wouldn’t hurt just to,

Cheating death once was a luxury. Cheating death twice was pushing it.

The birds chatted, the wind danced, the trees stood tall. My chest still hurt, but I was more tired than anything else. Tired, wet, cold. I stood up on shaky legs to see a towel laying out for me on a low branch. I snagged it and curled in its warmth.

Entering the single-person offshoot I had claimed, Susan sat on my bed. I looked around the four walls and sighed. “I can’t do this,” I mumbled.

“Jolly good you have us then, hum?” Susan patted the space before me, beckoning me to sit as she braided my hair and kissed my forehead. “Seriously, you’re not alone. We’ll help you along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment! Thank you for all your support <3


	5. You No Listen Linda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning- Severe anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who are following the story! Please drop a comment. The chapter gets a bit steamy at the end, you've been warned!  
Trigger warning-severe anxiety

The wrap fell apart around my wound once more; a muttered swear hissing from my lips. I unwound the bandages, revealing the small cotton pad that covered the deep scratch on my arm. The scab was slow in closing due to how frequently I tore it open. My body ached as I slid down on the mat in the space next to the medical supplies. I needed someone to help me clean the wound, for I couldn’t see it without twisting my arm, making it all worse. I didn’t want to go to medical; Nightbrooke would be furious for me lying to her. I didn’t want to bother Caspian; he had enough to worry about. Susan and Edmund were working with our archery and sky units running drills. Lucy would just give me her cordial, an action much too dramatic for a simple stubborn scratch. That left Peter.

I couldn’t hate him, even if I tried. But I loathed what he did. I trusted him, and he abandoned me right before it all went to shit. He left me naked and scarred and vulnerable to the world. I was hard before I met him. I hardened up when he left and cemented a wall around my heart when I returned to Earth. I could hear the far-off flicker of flames crackling from the Table room. A twinge of guilt carried through me. Aslan was quiet, not speaking to me since I arrived. Had I let him down? Was he disappointed with me? I let the golden era come to an end, the lords erasing me from history. I was okay with that. I knew what I had done for my people. I didn’t live for fame. The suffering I carried was for my people. It marred my skin and created a stone barrier in my heart. Tears rushed to my hot skin. I had failed them, letting so many die for folklore and misguided hope. Why would Aslan permit this to be? Why did he choose me to be the Diana? I sniffled as I wiped my face gently. How pathetic. I was a damned general. This was my chance to prove to the Narnians that I could lead. I couldn’t change the past, but I could sure change the future. I would stomp all of my emotions down until I went back home.

“Do you need help?”

“From you? No.” I croaked. Peter’s shadow cast long and narrow from my door. I sniffled again, fingers picking at my nail beds. Peter’s boots toed into my sight. He crouched down to look me in the eye. I would not let him break my heart again. 

“Let me help you.” He asked so sweetly. I closed my eyes and shook my head. 

“Get out.” I could feel more tears building. The charade couldn’t last forever, but every second was one second more. Peter stood up and picked up the medical supplies, and sat next to me. “I thought I was clear; get out!” Another sniffle. God, get it together. My thumb bled, where I picked open my skin. Peter gently took my hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “I didn’t ask, love.” A subtle spark torched my gut.

“Love? Don’t patronize me!” I hissed in his face. Our noses brushed. My eyebrows widened as I leaned back from the soft sensation and butterflies. I was screwed. His eyes had darkened, and his breaths warmed my face.

“Catalina,” Peter sighed forlornly and touched my cheek, bringing me closer to him.

“Don’t touch me.” I scrunched my nose and tilted my head away from him.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” He switched topics, moving my injured arm.

“I got sloppy. Lesson learned. It’s fine.” I snipped. Peter hummed in doubtful agreement as he started to wrap my arm for me.

“How long?” Peter folded the cotton over the wound. “With the anxiety?”

“Since Phillip came back without his rider,” I muttered. “It comes and goes. Coming more recently than going.” Two in two days was unheard of for me. It was typically once a week, once every three weeks if I were lucky.

“I’m sorry.” I scoffed.

“About what? The anxiety? Or causing it?” It was a low blow at best; I knew that. But I couldn’t stop the words. I felt Peter stop moving as my head dropped to my chest.

“What?” I drew in air deep into my chest with closed eyes, focusing on the steady thumping of my heart and buzzing in my ears.

“You abandoned me, left me to fend for myself. You knew where that lamp post leads to!” I took a greedy and shaky breath in. “I couldn’t do it.” I removed the necklace from my shirt and offered the ring back to him. “I can’t do this.” I didn’t belong here, that was for sure. I held out the wedding band to Peter. After tucking at the end of my bandage, he drawled his hands to his lap, his thigh touching mine. His chest froze as he finally looked at my hand.

“No.” Peter abruptly spoke before standing up and leaving me alone. Why would he say such a thing to me and not take back his ring? I looked up at him from under my wet lashes as he walked out.

“No? You just can’t tell me no and walk away!” I yelled down the hall. “Goddamn it,” I hissed, shaking. I couldn’t catch my breath. I walked back into the room, throwing the chain against the wall. Maybe Peter honestly didn’t want me. I couldn’t tell which was breaking my heart more: him or myself. Was I not to be loved in exchange for being a holy martyr? Was Aslan going to deny me of this one little thing I wanted my whole life? Am I to be so sacred as to remain unloved? Spiritual divinity came at a cost, which was too high, but there was no out. This was my lot in life, a pawn in this game. Fuck. What was I going to do?

* * *

Sharp, cool water rushed around me in the lake. I wiggled my cold toes and relished in the odd rocky; mud slicked base under my feet. My skin prickled at the water temperature, unaccustomed to bathing in cold water after so long in hot water. The last time I had soaked in an open stream like this was probably in the aftermath of the Giant War. That felt so long ago, and I was not the same girl who watched her village burn- I was girl turned queen. I was the phoenix who rises, again, and again, and again. I would overcome this; I had to, for there was no other option. It was death or success. The sun dipped behind the trees to the west, signaling the coming of the war council meeting. I dropped my head underwater and scrubbed away the soap in my hair. My injured arm burned slightly, but it was mostly scabbed over and allowed me to go on without the wrap. I swam to shore, drying off and preparing myself for the council meeting to end up dressed in a baby blue dress paired with a black corset.

The council was mostly gathered by the time I slid in, a few stragglers behind me roaming inside. Peter stood at the head of the table, Edmund to his right, Lucy off to the side with Trumpkin, Susan and Caspian off to Peter whispering in low voices. The lone gap at the table was next to Peter, a space held in reverence for the Diana. And as I was still his Diana and General, now ex-lover, I took that spot with gut-wrenching hesitance. It felt wrong, but what felt wrong could have been an assortment of things. Could it have been the meeting in general that stirred the anxious energy calling me to go? Or was it the man that stood to my right? Narnian clan leaders filled in the dead space around the table, and I took that time to observe the group. Over the last few days of training and scouting, since the Pevensies arrived, thick tension lines divided our military into two camps, all stemming from two male leaders. The tension between Peter and Caspian was almost as bad as the tension between Peter and me. Alpha personalities clashing, perhaps? At least we tried to hide our mess from others. Though, I was suspect to Susan and Lucy’s prying into our relationship. On more than one time, I’ve caught them glancing between the two of us in separate areas of the mess hall before whispering intently with gestures that swept between us.

Caspian started our meeting; Nightbrooke was the first to speak to the whole group saying, “The Telmarines have yet to find where we reside. Our scouts have tracked them to the edge of the woods, but not in them. If they still hold fear of these woods, we shall remain safe.” Narnians nodded sparsely around the room.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Peter spoke evenly, hunched over the table, but head held high. “Miraz’s men and war machines are on their way. That means those same men aren’t protecting his castle.” Peter had an idea, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. He used to preplan with me, but things, after all, were different this time around.

“What do you propose we do, Sire?” Reep spoke up, looking at the simple layout of the Telmarine castle.

“Our,”

“We,” Caspian and Peter spoke at the same time, glaring at each other. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Edmund, who just shrugged. The cocksure High King was not who I had been left by, a shell of the man he once was. Peter went on to defend his perspective, and, of course, Caspian didn’t like it, all boiling down to egotistical assholes battling for power. Just what I wanted to deal with on a Thursday! I rolled my downcast eyes.

“If we dig in, we can hold the How indefinitely.” Susan sided with Caspian. I inhaled; both plans were terrible. Sitting ducks for the slaughter, or cows going to the slaughter. But I was here, the Diana. Where I went, war too goes forth. We were going to the slaughter one way or another. It was now a matter of how few could we sacrifice to said slaughter.

“I-for one-feel safer underground,” Trufflehunter spoke up, siding with the Prince. I looked around the room. The tension between the two leaders was palpable at this point in the night. Narnians would walk away gossiping about their leaders for nights to come. 

“Look, I appreciate what you’ve done, but this isn’t a fortress. It’s a tomb.” I nodded slightly at Peter's voice, unintentionally. 

“And if the Telmarines are smart, they would just starve us out,” Edmund added, siding with Peter. It was Lucy and me now. 

“We could collect nuts!” A squirrel spoke. I rolled my eyes and looked at Peter, who just looked at me. It made me uncomfortable how he was more offensive than defensive. His dark circles under his eyes were as bad as mine. Maybe all he needed was a solid 8 hours. I wish that could be the case.

“Oh, yes!” Reep sarcastically imputed. “And throw them at the Telmarines.” I snorted at that. 

“If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?” Peter spoke up. I held up a hand as Glennstorm nodded. 

“You forget the most important opinion here, High King,” I spoke up before dropping my voice. “I am still the Diana, your General.” Peter glared at me, eyes turning sour. I didn’t mirror his glare.

“You’ll just agree with me.” He whispered, leaning closer. I crossed my arms and squared up to him, unafraid of the challenge presented. 

“Like how I agreed with you during the Giant War? Or during the trade war with the Colermines?” Peter rolled his eyes and waved his hand to allow me to speak. I turned my nose up at him and touched the maps on the table. “Nobody knows these lands better than we do. If we have the upper hand here, we need to take advantage of that as much as possible.” 

“So, you’re with Caspian?” Peter scoffed. I tilted my head to look over my shoulder at him.

“I’m not done yet, High King.” I turned to him full on as his eyes narrowed just so. “And roll your eyes at me one more time, I dare you,” I whispered before turning back to the Narnians. “If we use our strengths and ambush them a few more times at random, we can take out a significant number without harming ours.” I took a deep breath. “I worry about ambushing the castle only because we have one exit. We lose that; we lose the revolution.” 

“We can do that through thorough planning, Catalina,” Susan spoke. If Miraz knew that Caspian was with us, why hadn’t he sent the dogs after him? It didn’t make sense. It would have been so easy to track us down. Why didn’t he just hunt us down? Kill Caspian under the radar? 

“We shouldn’t take the castle. There are civilians in there. What happens after we win? How will your people receive you then?” I questioned Caspian. “You forget that there will be an outcome to this war,” I looked to Peter, face set and determined. “If we harm them, the transition will not go smoothly. Imagine the propaganda already being spewed in the courts by Miraz.”

“Maybe that’s what we need, though, something to push them into battle,” Edmund added. Peter nodded with his brother. 

“And risk losing an army? Risk losing people? We run the risk of not blending people after the war if we march in like that. Even if we survive the raid, even if we win the war, can we manage the cultural ramifications?” I piped up. This was ridiculous! They could listen but not understand. Why would they risk all of this for nothing?

“It’s war, milady. We will do or die trying. If we win, we can strong-arm Telmarines into believing in our cause.” Glennstorm added. I felt the air catch in my throat, a shifting weight slinking down my center to push against the bottom of my gut.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Lucy stood up from her seat amongst the Narnians. I prayed Aslan would let them listen to her, our voice of reason.

“Sorry?” Peter asked.

“You all act like we have two options. Dying here, or dying there-”

“I’m not sure you’ve been listening, Lu-” Peter spoke. I placed a hand over his elbow to quietly silence him. Bad habits die hard, I suppose. I quickly pulled back and sent a prayer to Aslan to keep Peter from going through with this. I closed my eyes briefly, my chest constricting against itself as my chin brushed against my chest.

“No, you’re not listening. Or have you really forgotten who defeated the White Witch, Peter?” I sharply inhaled, nightmares filling my mind, regardless of my now shot open eyes. The table was harsh against my skin as I dug my fingers down. The soft rock gave just so to create little bumps against the pads of my fingers. I didn’t want to hear her name; she had started to plague my dreams again since I’ve arrived. Peter's left hand twitched towards mine before coming to rest in the same spot on the table. 

“I think we have waited for Aslan long enough.” Peter stood to his full height. “We attack tomorrow night.” I sighed, shoulders tight under my skin. We were going to fail, and that made me sick to my stomach. Peter's inability to not listen to anyone but himself, paired with his recklessness with people’s lives, was a recipe for disaster. Narnians began to chatter amongst themselves and mill away from the table as the meeting was clearly adjourned. I drug my fingers against the table as Peter moved away from me, a hand brushing against my back. I took a slow deep breath in and out. 

“Catalina?” I snapped my head up to see Lucy. I smiled at her. “Something’s wrong.” She was so gentle with everyone and forgiving. I wanted to cry. She was the closest thing to a sister I would ever have.

“Nothing’s wrong. I, um,” I looked around the ground, “I should go.” I buried my hands in my pockets, uncomfortable with the number of eyes on me. Lucy smiled and placed her hand over mine.

“Peter will come around. Maybe this is what Aslan has planned for him.” I shook my head, looking down at her.

“Catalina!” Peter called. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before turning around. I turned back to Lu with apologetic eyes.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Our stakes are too high for that, and time is not our friend.”

“Catalina, come here.” Peter stuck his index finger down at the ground after snapping, not even looking at me. I was not a dog! I would not have the blatant disrespect, not even from my former king. I narrowed my eyes, feet turning to my High King while I looked at Lucy.

“You might want to pray that I don’t stab your brother.” I joked before Lucy giggled behind her hand. As my body turned to face my High King, I switched. My shoulders shot back; my chin tilted up. How many times had I entered a room as the underdog and left victorious? This would be one of those occasions. Glennstorm promptly excused himself, his eyes widening in equal parts amusement and fear.

“Don’t talk to me like that, son; it’s degrading.” Peter narrowed his eyes at me and took a step into my personal space. I was fuming now, and not even Aslan could tame me, all subtle fire, stemming along with coals and twigs.

“You don’t get to call me son, princess.” Chills jumped down my spine at his narrowed blue eyes. He played with my fire, adding oxygen in just the right spots to rile me up. He always won those games.

“Don’t call me princess; only Faramir calls me that. I have a title. Use. It.” Peter took another step into my personal space, so we were chest to chest. Narnians silenced at our confrontation. I held my breath as we went literally toe to toe.

“Watch yourself. I’m still High King.” Peter hissed with clenched teeth.

“And I am the Diana!” I snarled. “If you forget, I was chosen by Aslan for you!” I seethed. Peter grabbed my arm and firmly guided me out of the room. Narnians gave us concerned looks, worried for either myself or Peter as I passed them, brooding just as bad as Peter ever could. I picked up my skirts with my free hand as we made our way to the woods in a secluded spot so we could fight in private. He knew that I hated blatant disrespect like this. I yanked my arm away from him and stuck a finger in his face. I would have bruises later on my forearm. He took one step forward, so we were chest to chest.

“You know what your problem is, Mr. high and mighty? You’re so stuck in the past; you can’t accept that Narnia is where she’s at because of you! Don’t take out your insecurity within your leadership position on me!” Peter grabbed my hand and pulled it to our side, not letting go. I didn’t fight him, wanting him to open up to me.

“I’m the one who did this to Narnia? You’re the one I left in charge! I trusted you! I loved you! I was a fool to believe that you could handle it!” I felt a wave of panic rush up to my ears, causing tears to catch.

“Do you even know what happened to me after you left? You never saw the blood and gore,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Your lords called me a whore for sleeping with you! We tried to convince everyone that we wed. It didn’t work. I had a civil war uprising on my hands, and nothing I did solved it. The lords began targeting villages and burning them, slaughtering hundreds of my people! They killed me! Aslan sent me home before I died. I haven’t slept since the night you left me and-” I took a deep breath in a while, shaking my head, the truth falling out of my lips like air. My hands shook, and he must have felt that panic in my body; there was no way he couldn’t.

“Peter, seeing you like this hurts me more than the nightmares at night. I loved you too much for that. But you left me. Abandoned me. I didn't have any agencies in court. I was a dead woman walking.” Peter’s eyes darkened to something I had only seen once on occasion before. At my confession, A look that moved heaven and earth once for me before. He moved closer to me, so our chests were touching, noses almost brushing. His eyes kept glancing between my lips and eyes. “Peter, don’t.” I choked.

He paused at the broken rejection, letting go of me. “Catalina,” He whispered. I pulled away from him, pushing my hair out of my face, which really wasn’t there, before moving my hand against the center of my chest, feeling the chaotic thump against my chest. “I didn’t know that.” He admitted lowly.

“You knew where that lamp post leads to, though! So why did you go? Just!” I inhaled as my voice cracked. “Just as you, just as you made me fall past the point of no return,” I whispered while I turned to face him.

“I didn’t know, though. I had forgotten, we all had except for Lucy. She started, and the next thing we knew, we were back in England. Do you know how hard it has been for me?” I gawked at him.

“Are you kidding me? Why is it all about you? What is the deal with this egotistical asshole front you’re putting up?” I exclaimed, coming up to him to push him gently. “You’re not the man I love. Where did he go? I want him back!” I shoved him gently again, his large hands roughly grabbing around my bicep and hip, pushing me back quickly. I lifted my skirts to keep from tripping as I backed into a tree trunk. My head snapped back on the impact, Peter’s hand softening the impact between my head and the bark. I brushed his nose with mine, gasping slightly with wide eyes. The bark pressed into my hands. His eyes dark, and his lips curling something fierce. I loved every second of it and would not shy away from him. He would not harm me.

“Say it.” His voice was rough, sparking a long distant memory of the last touches we shared. 

“Say what?” I whispered, blood burning in my veins. Our eyes kept bouncing to the other’s lips, breaths mixing in the shared space. I wanted him to kiss me, but I knew that I was a goner once his lips touched mine. He would hold my heart captive until I died. 

“You still love me. Say it.” I let out a shaky breath with his nose and lips tracing over my neck, teeth dragging. He was making this hard. So, so, hard. My eyes fluttered shut as my hands found his shoulders. My thighs pressed together. 

“Fuck.” I inhaled as he sucked. “You.” I finished. I would not sell my soul to the devil for pleasure that I could mimic myself. Peter chuckled and grabbed my skirts, pulling up to reveal my knees. His hands caught my leg and pulled closer to his hips, hands touching the soft skin of my lower thigh. I squeezed my nails into his thick shoulder muscles. 

“Your choice, sweetheart.” He pulled away, his mop of golden hair messy and unruly. “Because I love you. I’ve loved you since the day you marched out of my tent in a hissy fit.” His lips hovered mine as his hands wandered my body.

“It wasn’t a hissy fit.” Peter bit in the meat of my shoulder under my collar, creating a bruise and a sharp gasp.

“You’re avoiding it, brat” Bite. “Say.” Suck. “It.” Lick and a kiss. I broke. I hadn’t been touched this much since he last touched me. I needed more of him. Screw the consequences. Fuck the Diana. Fuck the revolution. I just needed him: his scent, his hands on my body. I wanted to taste him again. I dropped my head against the bark as his hands squeezed and pulled me close to him. “Come on, baby girl, three words.” He ground up against me, pushing me up against the tree bark.

“Peter!” I hummed, nails biting into him. “I can’t.” His hand snaked up my center to my neck, squeezing just enough to make me feel him. His forehead dipped to touch mine, my breaths becoming his and his sourcing mine. I looked into the depths of his blue eyes, and the tears slid down my face slowly.

“Yes, you can love.” He stroked the side of my throat with his thumb, soothing me. His face morphed into regret as he sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to marry you. Spend the rest of my life with you.” My tears came harder as he kissed my forehead. “I prayed every day for Aslan to get me back to you.” Peter pushed his forehead against mine and brushed his nose against mine, which I returned. “I love you still if you’ll have me.” I sniffled and nodded.

“Peter, I love you,” I muttered, eyes jumping up to the sky before resting on him. His lips came to mine, soft and inviting. I gasped as his tongue brushed against my lips, fighting for me. Fighting to claim me. I fought him before he grabbed underneath my upper thigh, under my skirts. I was a goner. I gave up fighting him. I was his ultimately, and that was what felt just and right. I pulled up his shirt, needing to touch. Peter yanked my hair, pulling my head back to suck by my ear. I gasped, scraping my nails down his stomach. His scars bumped my hands, proof that he lived. I pulled his head closer to me, letting him lift me and press his hips against mine. I got higher off of him with every breath and was delirious with him. I forgot how good it felt to be touched. I dug my nails down his spine, whimpering at the overstimulation of it all. It was all him. Every breath I took was granted from him, and every moan and sigh were because of him. My heart clenched as I came down from my high, Peter kissing my forehead. I unhooked my legs to stand, Peter’s hands holding me steady by my hip and arm. I adjusted my skirts while Peter picked up his shirt and slid it back on before looking at me. I crossed my arms over my stomach and looked away at the dewy grass—what a lovesick fool. One conversation couldn’t change a man.

“What’s wrong?” Peter slid on his trousers, lacing them up, the laces dragging against aid nothing as I watched him. “Catalina, please don't shut me out again,” Peter demanded.

“I need a minute to clean up. I’ll be in in a bit. Goodnight, High King.” My partial truth wasn’t convincing to Peter as he crossed his arms. I avoided eye contact as I strolled towards the steam, further into the brush. I would return to my own sleeping mat tonight. I needed to clear my head and get in a steady headspace for our first rebel attack.


	6. Return of the Jedi?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest part to write, so please leave a comment!  
Read with caution if anxiety issues are triggering at the end.

I hated this. Flying in the sky, hanging in the talons of a massive griffin with Edmund in the other. My mouth tasted awful, having vomited right before we loaded up. This was rare, but something was making me feel terrible going into this. If Peter weren’t going to listen to reason, he most certainly would not listen to bullshit emotional, intuitive feelings. However, I would argue my intuition to be bar none.

In the darkness of night, our attack began. Our griffin dropped Ed and me at the tower, Edmund signaling the troops in from the peak of the tower’s roofing. My heart moved hard and fast against my chest, my hands eager to move from the rocky roof. I manned the backside of the spiral; Edmund pulled the first guard away silently along the front side while I slid down the rear of the spiral and took out the other guard, slitting his throat. I jogged inside the lookout to stand next to Edmund as he signaled the troops in the gates. Griffins would be bringing in Caspian, Susan, and Peter to the castle. I took the crossbow off of the dead Telmar Edmund had killed. Narnians stormed the yard of the castle and begun their assault.

It was a bloodbath. The set up was horrible, and the Telmarine’s response time was so much better than Caspian had said. “Edmund, this is bad. We need to call a retreat.” I muttered, glancing to my King. He nodded before shrugging.

“I can’t call it; only Peter can. I’m sorry, Cat.” My heart clenched as Narnians and Telmarines died, blood painting the stones.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” Edmund looked me in the eyes, his own widening.

“Behind you.” He pushed me behind him as I processed the two swordsmen storming the lookout point. I aimed my bow and took down the first one as Edmund pulled out his sword and locked into combat with the Telmarine. 

“Ed! Signal the troops!” Peter’s shouted from the ground. I looked around for the flashlight as Edmund rustled with the solder. 

“He’s a bit preoccupied, and you’re about 20 minutes too late!” I shouted back. I pulled my dagger out as the Telmarine pinned Edmund. I tackled him and shoved my blade into his neck, blood covering my chest plate. 

“Thanks. Are you alright?” Edmund offered his hand and helped me up before picking up his damaged flashlight. 

“I’m fine. More worried about the flashlight being broken.” I watched him jiggle the switch and hit the light. I lifted the bow and shot at ground Telmarines as Peter fucked around with the gate. Fucking hell, Telmarines swarmed the balconies and shot down at Narnian invaders. “We need to go. Signal a retreat. Peter will lead our people to their deaths. I won’t have that.” I shot down another Telmarine before the light blinded me. I glared at Edmund, who signaled for a retreat. Peter let out a battle cry before charging into the yard. I pressed my lips together and shot off the last arrow in my arsenal. Useless. That’s why I never wanted to be an archer. Dumb luck, I would run out of arrows. I threw down the useless thing. Edmund snorted before hopping over the railing and sliding down the roof to hit an unsuspecting soldier. Fucker was always trigger happy for a fight. 

“Damnit, Ed. We were supposed to use the buddy system!” I yelled before sliding next to him and throwing my dagger into the eye of an archer aimed at Edmund. Unfortunately for us, behind him were more archers all aimed at us. I swore and grabbed Edmund’s collar, pulling him into a small entryway. He tumbled in first, myself behind him to shut the door. A smoldering agony tore into my neck as I closed the door. I whimpered and clutched my bleeding wound. It had just grazed me, but lord knows that it ripped through my vein. Fuck. I groaned, light-headed, as I laid my head down on the cool tile. So cool. Edmund grabbed my arm and pulled me up, looking at my wound. 

“It’s a lot of blood, Diana. Can you manage it?” His brown eyes were filled with terror and bounced between me and the whittling wood door. I mumbled a soft ‘yeah’ before following Edmund through corridors and stairs. My beating heart pounded louder, a ringing in my ears. I could feel my shirt collar stick to my wound- it would be a bitch to stitch up later. If I got a later. Part of me didn't even want a later. Edmund pushed me through a door that leads to our original standpoint. I leaned on the wall, half-aware, as Ed shut the door. Everything was slow to process. Slow and blurry. “Come on, Catalina. Stay with me.” He lifted my good arm over his head and drug me to the opposite side, looking for the griffin. It burned all the way down to my stomach, making me feel sick. My vision narrowed as my hearing whined. Edmund yanked me up to the balcony and fell off, pulling me with him. I closed my eyes to rest for a moment. 

* * *

I wanted death. Welcomed it, in fact. My body burned as darkness danced around me. Where was Aslan? Wasn't he supposed to meet me on his shores again? Something was tremendously wrong. A sick feeling warped my soul. But why the darkness? I pressed my lips together, a sweet taste flooding my mouth. I hummed and swallowed the liquid in my mouth. Warmth comforted my veins, waking me up. My toes and fingers wiggled to life first before my eyes opened. I clutched the grass as I took a deep breath. My eyes fluttered open next to see Edmund and Lucy with knitted eyes. Lucy squealed before pulling me into a hug. I closed my eyes and sighed. Home, I was home. Thank Aslan. No matter how much I wanted to give up, this was my family. They deserved my protection to the very end.

“You’re the one that called us! Remember?” Peter bellowed. I opened my eyes to see him and Caspian in the front fields, locked in an argument. I groaned and reached out to Edmund to help me up. Lucy let me go and grabbed my free hand to help me.

“Is he seriously going at it with Caspian right now?” I panted, slightly light-headed. The cordial flowing through me supported me well enough. Edmund let me lean against him as Caspian glared at Peter. 

“It needs to happen,” Edmund mumbled.

“But does in front of everyone? They both need to have more couth than this.” I hissed.

“Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people!” Peter shouted. I closed my eyes and huffed. 

“Hey! I am not the one who abandoned Narnia.” My eyes shot open, a gasp falling from my lips. He didn’t abandon her. He left her in my care, and it was my fault that I ended the Golden Age. Caspian stepped forward to the High King. I pushed off of Edmund and moved to the edge of the crowd.

“You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to it than Miraz does! You, him, your father, Narnia’s better off without the lot of you!” I clenched my jaw, demanding my body to stay awake as the boys drew their swords. 

“Enough!” My feet and mouth moved quicker than my brain. The entire How fell silent to my voice, hanging on to truths spoken into the dawn by their leaders. “What is done is done. Walk away from each other.” Peter growled and pointed at me.

“I'm the High King!” I flipped out my dagger and pressed it against his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. His head was hot under my fingers, and his baby blues were bloodshot from exhaustion and pressure.

“And I am the Diana!” I shouted, spit flying, applying just a little bit of pressure to his neck.

“You don’t tell me what to do, bit,” His eyes bore into mine, our hearts beating in double time as he stopped. My jaw slackened in disbelief while his gaze drifted down to my bloodied neck.

“Stop it!” Edmund shouted. Peter lifted a hand to move my shirt collar. His face paling. I eased off of his neck as a little stream of blood trickled down his neck. I hoped he felt it as much as I did. It still hurt even after the cordial. My body moved away from Peter’s as everyone milled around me, my chest heaving. Something was wrong. A pull to the How’s entrance silenced the milling and Peter speaking to me.

_Follow Caspian. _

Aslan’s voice filled my head, my body seeking out the Prince. Caspian had a sparse trickling of an entourage of Narnians following him. The same species as the old witch followers. If our revolution was going to splinter now, we had no more hope. I passed Peter on my way into the How his hand brushing against mine. I jerked away, moving swiftly into the threshold of the rocky halls. It was oddly quiet, the sounds of an army silenced by mourning. Torches flickered as I passed them, adding to the growing headache. I neared the Table, stopping short of the soft murmurs of spoken old Narnian.

“Let the circle be drawn!” A hag’s voice scratched. Goosebumps raced on my arms, teeth chattering as the cold seeped in my veins. The witch. Jadis was back, and if she came back wholly, our revolution would die with the rest of our troops who laid in that courtyard. My boots were silent as I toed away from the entryway before breaking out in a sprint. My head pounded as blood pumped quickly, my chest constricting. A ringing sound hummed in my ears, with my vision blurring. My body needed rest, and this was making everything worse. Torches flickered in the wake of my body.

I turned a corner to the entrance, running into Peter’s back. I reached my hands out to steady myself and let Peter pull me close to him. Smells of sweat, blood, and wood flooded into my system. I slumped against his chest, willing the pain away; no sound could make it past the ringing. His body was solid against my melting and distraught body. I huffed, trying to catch my breath. His fingers brushed through my hair. 

“Catalina! What’s wrong?” Lucy placed a hand on my arm, voice soft.

"Caspian’s. In trouble,” I looked up to Peter, “The witch.” The royals didn’t even have to look at each other to sprint away from me. I took a deep breath, preparing for the confrontation. I was Aslan’s representative. I ran back to the room, quietly turning the corner. A wall of cloudy glass separated us from the opposite end of the room, a ring of fire illuminating the dank space. I could hear shouts and grunts around me from the wall of the room. Still, Peter was the center of attention. His bright hair was shimmering in the Firelight, just like the metal of his outstretched sword. He looked like the King he should be.

Jadis smiled, offering her hand to Peter. Peter lowered his sword as he contemplated her twisted truths and deviated lies. My stomach clenched. This was my time to confront her. My feet carried my full body pace towards Peter, and I dropped my shoulder to push him out of the circle etched on the floor. I pulled my eyes towards the woman who snapped her outstretched hand in. We stood silently, observing each other. Her blonde hair floated around her like she was floating in water, eyes blacker than obsidian. Her skin was sickly pale, a translucent undertone adding to the surrealism of the room. She loomed overall, making me feel small. I squared my shoulders and narrowed my brow. It was just her and I in the room, all becoming quiet. A dark snarl lifted her lips.

“Diana.”

“Witch.” Her eyes softened as she smiled at me gently. Oddly enough, I felt calm in the chaos. My fingers twitching to go.

“Now, now, it has been a long time. Hasn't it?” She remarked, sitting back on her heels.

“Not long enough.” I narrowed my eyes at her. Jadis reeked of dark cruelty, being able to see beyond my walls, always being able to. And ever the opportunist, she took the cracks and wedged them apart with searing words.

“Something is different about you.” She commented, eyeing me as she examined the cracks, following them down to the root. “Oh, so the Diana finally realized she is being played. You poor girl, so strong and faithful. You gave everything to Aslan and your High King, only to be betrayed. Time after time, after time. I could change that. All you have to do is give me a drop of Adam’s blood.” I shook my head as Jadis’ eyes sparkled with a challenge. 

“That’s my husband. Leave him out of this. Why, why would _you_ want to help me? You’re just playing me like everyone else. I’m not a pawn in this fucking game of yours!” I yelled. It felt good to be seen, to scream, and fight back for once.

“I am the only one who will give you exactly what you want. Aslan will not do that for you, dearie. He only does what he wants. I can take you back to that man who loved only Aslan more than you. You could become the High Queen you always thought you would be. Graceful, elegant, not some whore.” Jadis waved her hand, and I could feel ice crawling up my legs, turning into gold silks before a miniature version of Peter’s crown topped my head. A diamond ring sat on my left hand, just below my engagement ring. The corset framed my chest perfectly. My fingers danced over the soft material of the skirt, enjoying the pressure on my chest, rooting me to the ground.

“Just think the impact you could have made, Diana. You could have saved the Narnians if the lords didn’t persecute you. Secured the throne with a healthy baby girl. You want to name her Theia, did you not?” I froze, clutching my skirts, gawking at her light eyes. How did she know? I hadn't told anyone about that. “Where is Aslan? When was the last time he spoke to you? You have, at least, met me before. You have seen my power. Give me your Adam, and I can give you power and control. I can give you respect, passion, a dreamless sleep.” I looked for Peter and found nothing and eerie silence. How was she doing that? Isolating just the two of us? I reached behind me out of the circle for somebody, anybody to root me.

“I can give you back your High King.” I snapped my head to her with wide eyes. Jadis leaned forward, smirking. “Poor girl hasn’t been honest, have you, Diana? Most certainly not to your Adam.” I burned red as Peter took my hand. I clutched it tight, looking at the dirt ground. “You lust after dreams of the past. I can give you back that past—the magic of love in Cair Paravel. You do not love him anymore. You love the idea of him.” I could feel Peter touch a spare curl and play with it before placing it back on my shoulder. It was the truth. I didn’t love the shell of a man Peter had become. I didn’t love the life I was living either. Something had to change. Death would be a more straightforward path, but I was not so lucky, for that was not my path. Ice crawled up my leg, and I closed my eyes as if I could hide.

* * *

“Catalina?” I felt warmth fill my body as his lips brushed my neck. “I know you’re awake.” I gasped as Peter pressed behind me. My eyes shot open to his room at Cair. I wore one of Peter’s old shirts, bunched up by his hand. I couldn’t help but feel like something was off. “There is my beautiful queen.” His hand laced mine and twisted the ring on my left hand. I sunk back into his chest, my eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Peter rolled me underneath his body and kissed me, tongue sneaking into the kiss as his hands stripped me of the last layer between us. I giggled as his beard scratched my thighs as he made camp between my legs and went to town, sending my soul outside of my body. As I came down from my high, I couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off. He pulled the shirt over my torso and rolled me on top of him. I pushed him away, panting, trying to put a coherent train of thought together.

“What’s going on? Am I the High Queen?” I placed my hand on his chest to look at the ring—my dream ring with vines and flowers supporting the small diamond on my hand. 

“Are you alright, dear?” I knitted my eyebrows together. Dear? He would never call me that. At least that’s what I thought would happen. I also never thought that he would be fucking me so wonderfully. 

“I’m fine. Just, I don’t know, counting my blessings.” I couldn’t lie to save my life, yet Peter should have caught me, but he didn’t. He simply kissed me quickly before getting ready for the day. I followed his lead, suspicious. I thought he was going to fuck me again. I dressed in a deep red and gold gown, my husband’s colors, and pulled my hair up before grabbing a blade and tightening the holster around my calf. 

“What are you doing, dear?” I cringed at the nickname. I looked up to Peter, who was laughing at me. 

“I always do this?” My confusion was thickened by him taking it off of my body and kissing me. 

“You’re hilarious.” Peter grabbed my calf and replaced my holster with a garter. “Come on; we have to meet our friends at the-” My body recoiled, and as I blinked, I had to press open my eyes against the sudden force against my body. It was like the force one felt against their chest on the way down a rollercoaster hill. A wave of air slammed into my side before everything calmed. From a distance, people chattered, and the music faintly danced around the room. I blinked open my eyes slowly. I stood on the dais next to Peter and Edmund. Peter was standing, lifting a glass. Was this real? What the fuck was going on?

“To the next heir of Narnia!” Peter turned to me and offered his hand. I took it, confused. 

“Peter? We need to talk.” Peter’s smile never faltered as he kissed my hand. My dress was now blue and covered my slightly thicker stomach. I ran my hand over myself, feeling the new shape.

“After we celebrate the conception of the next heir to Narnia!” The hall cheered as Peter swept me up and kissed me breathless. I felt nauseous as he let me go. I grabbed his arm. 

“I don’t feel good, Pete.” I felt bile rise in my body as my vision blurred as another wall of force slammed into my body, my eyes shutting closed. I came to, standing in Peter’s study in pants and a shirt. 

“You are the High Queen of Narnia, and I will not have my sister-in-law parading around like some demon-infested whore!” Susan scolded. Wasn’t I just in the throne room? How could I be in here now after being in the throne room? I was slightly larger now than I was a second ago. Who would have thought that Peter’s pants were so comfortable during pregnancy?

“Listen to her, Catalina.” Peter took my hand and kissed it. “My daughters will take her cue from you, and I can’t have them running around like whores.” He kept saying whore. He wouldn’t say that. Narnians didn’t care about dresses, so why now? I tuned them out as my heart beat faster. 

“This isn’t real,” I whispered to the marbled flooring. This wasn’t the same floor that was in Peter’s office. His was a blue color, not white.

“What? Of course, it’s real. I love you, I married you, I made you High Queen, I gave you a child, of course, it’s real.” Peter held a baby girl in his arms, with bright eyes with thick hair, and small, curious fingers. “She needs her mother.” I shook my head and dug my fingers into the couch. “Catalina, don’t you want me? Don’t you want my crown?” Wasn’t I pregnant a few seconds ago? I felt frustration manifest into tears, and my hands shake. Peter tilted my chin and kissed me, hard. I pulled away, panting, and looking around the room. Where did my daughter go? This was a terrible fever dream. I spotted Lucy’s dagger on his desk; it was now or never. My feet moved quickly, the force pushing me to the floor, eyes closing on impact to the floor. 

* * *

“Catalina?" Peter placed his hand on my waist and pressed his chest against my back; my body swayed. “Let her have my blood.” He whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes in a flash, chest heaving. “If that means you’ll love me, let her have it.” Peter’s voice was sweet. I wanted it so bad. I swayed into Peter as blood rushed in my ears, throat closing, tears filled my eyes as I pressed my lips together. Peter pressed his lips against my neck, not quite kissing it. My fingers released my dagger as I looked at Peter. My love. All mine. I looked to the Witch, who was now two feet away from us with her outstretched hand.

“This is your choice, Catalina. Your time to make your own choices. No longer the Diana, a general or queen. Just you. Stop being a pawn in Aslan’s game.” Jadis taunted me. The whiplash was making my head spin between Peter’s scent, filling my nose and the witch’s needy eyes flipping between my eyes and Peter’s hands. My chest clenched, making it hard to breathe. I needed Peter to get off of me. I needed space. I muttered and swayed, but Peter held me firm.

“Peter, let go,” I whispered like a broken record, needing out. I wanted to sprint and dive into the river, ready to drown.

“Would you keep your word, Jadis?” Peter asked. I looked up to his determined profile, squeezing his forearm tightly in a warning. I gasped for air, not drawing enough into my system to satisfy my lungs. I was having the start of a panic attack, fuck, fuck, fuck. I had to get out. Why wasn’t he listening to me? My hand shook against his forearm as I tapped it again and again.

“Yes.” She nodded and looked to the weapon while my own eyes drifted to Peter’s own. A shadow danced behind the ice, my reverie breaking. Somebody was plotting to break the ice, remove Jadis from our presence. I took a deep breath and pulled my shoulders up higher. I squeezed Peter’s forearm to force my body to stop for five seconds.

“Do it, Catalina.” He whispered, stepping into my space and touching his forehead to mine. My dagger shook spastically in my hand as I felt for his palm. I wanted free from all of this bullshit. I refused to be tied to this woman, the notorious manipulator, and the fine-print abuser. If I were just a pawn in this game, I’d rather be Aslan’s pawn.

My pawn had one purpose, to protect Aslan’s chosen royals. No matter what I wanted, the people needed Peter, Edmund, Susan, Lucy, and Caspian. I stared at his face as I addressed her. If I looked away, I wasn't sure I'd be so sure of my choice.

“Jadis, you of anyone should know that the High King isn't yours or mine to have. But he is mine to protect, even from you.” My voice cracked, my cheeks wet with tears, and I dropped my dagger, the silent oscillations decrescendoing to nothingness.

Cracks formed like a web around Jadis’ center. Peter’s hand was forceful on my arm, pulling me to the ground while shielding me from the explosion of ice shards. A freezing wet bucket dumped on me, jolting a gasp from my lips. I had forgotten about the dress and crown until it melted instantly as the ice settled, drenching me. Water flooded my clothes and hair. I dug my fingers in the mud with closed eyes. The shaking was worse after consuming my hands, my jaw, my legs, and my ankles. The soil on the floor offered me safety from Edmund’s disappointed eyes. I covered my mouth as I settled into the muck. Peter moved, taking his warmth with him.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to save some warmth. Shame smothered my soul. My forehead hung low in my lap as I rocked gently back and forth. I almost did it. I almost gave everything up for her. For what? For the idea of Peter? I dug my nails into my skin. I nearly destroyed everything. For love? For freedom? I was so weak. Softened by foolish school-girl fantasies of life. Where was Aslan to provide and protect? Even if I were just a pawn, he was supposed to be with me! A choked sob left my lips before I gasped for air. Why couldn’t Aslan just give me peace? Someone crouched next to me, softly running his hand down my spine, stopping at the end. Why was I the Diana? Aslan should have chosen a soldier, not a doubting rebel like me. How could I rebuke her name? I wasn’t strong enough to carry on her legacy. I’ve already destroyed this country once. I almost did it a second time. Selfish. I’ve never been as successful as the Diana. Everyone I was given to protect died. Somebody placed their hands on my shoulders, squeezing briefly before going to my bicep and forearms.

“Catalina, breath with me,” Peter whispered, placing his hand against my stuttering heart and the other on the opposite side of my body and compressed.

“Get off of me!” I wept. “Just leave me alone, goddamn it!” I weakly pushed against him in rebellion. Peter simply shook his head before moving closer to my body. His chest was pressed against my shoulder so I could feel his exaggerated breaths while also keeping a hold on me. I let him guide my legs to lay in front of me and guide me through the backside of my panic attack. It was silent in the room except for the little breaths we took together and the crackling of the fire. I felt myself collapse into his torso out of exhaustion.

“You had a vision.” A statement; he always knew. It made me want to hate him. I sniffed and lifted my head, not able to hide from Peter anymore. My demons swarmed in my soul and needed to be freed. 

“I was showed what I could have. The prestige of becoming High Queen. The love of a family. A daughter.” I sighed, trying to wipe the fresh tears from my eyes. “Peter, I can’t be the Diana anymore. I destroyed Narnia after you left. I was too worried about the wrong things. I almost did it again, trading in Aslan’s will for my own. I can’t be here; there’s too much at stake. I’m not a blind servant. I’ve failed in everything I’ve done.” Peter sighed and wrapped his arm around my back again. His warmth lulled me closer to rest.

“Darling, that’s what makes you so perfect to be the Diana. You don’t listen to orders; you push for the best plan possible. That fire, loyalty, and stubbornness you have, that’s why I fell in love with you in the first place. You push everyone you see to be the best version of themselves. Why do you think so many followed you before the Giant War? You’re a leader in every right who was handed bad luck. Aslan gave me to you, and you were chosen to be mine by Aslan. The Diana was never meant to be a Queen on her own. That was my fault. I left you alone. I’m sorry.” I shivered and hummed, studying the portrait on the wall. The tears were slowing down now.

“I’ve said terrible things to you since we’ve met. I’m sorry, Peter. I doubted you and cut you down. I’m sorry.” I saw him nod before I placed my head on his shoulder. “What happens now, Pete?” I whispered. He tentatively reached for my hand, wrapping it in his large one. 

“We trust Aslan, and we try to win this war for our people.” I sneezed, jerking away from his hold. “And you get dried off before you catch your death.” He chuckled before helping me up and on my way to bathe. I felt lighter now as we walked hand in hand to the stream. That sense of Aslan watching me pricked the corner of my eye, nothing actually being there. Perhaps it wasn’t Jadis showing me what was lost in that vision? After all, she never gave me visions. Aslan though? Maybe he showed me what I had gained in light of what was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! Please review.


	7. The Start of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's a fluffer today, y'all! Enjoy and please review!

I sighed as I sunk into the warmer than normal river water, washing off the soap on my skin before soaping up my hair. As I swam under the water, I looked up to the sky, watching the little crystals and fractals of light dance underwater. It was moments like this that made me feel so small and yet so large. I swam to the surface, squeezing out my hair and checking for leftover soap. Looking to shore, Peter sat on the water's edge, preferring to soap up before rinsing off. Little cuts swarmed his chest and arms from the fight, causing his chest to flex and relax under the soap bar. I sunk to let water dance over my mouth, breathing through my nose to watch him. Most of them were healed from the previous night, but some of them reopened in our sparing practice this afternoon.

“Enjoying my suffering?” He smirked, eyes looking at me from his perch. I giggled and lifted my mouth out of the water. 

“Perhaps,” I turned around and looked over my shoulder. “Or, maybe I just like looking at your body.” I dived under the water to swim away from him, water dulling all sounds. Fingers wrapped around my ankle, giving a sharp tug to pull me back. I couldn’t help but giggle, breaking for air. I tilted my head back, using the water to keep my hair from my eyes. Peter’s arms took my waist, tugging me to his chest. A soft buzz warmed my body at his touch, my fingers quick to wipe the water out of my eyes. I fluttered them open, nose brushing with Peter’s.

“You’re in a mood today,” Peter noted. I brushed my nose against his again before Peter lifted me to his hips to be eye level. I touched his cheek, pulling his mouth to mine in a deep kiss. His hands palmed my thighs, a gasp slipping from my lips. I wanted to tear away from him, all of it being too much, but wanting more. It was a weird dichotomy, but something was intoxicating about it. Peter was steady, though. A large hand on my center back to keep me close, lips sucking at my neck. I gasped, moving my hands moved from his shoulders to his hair, nails raking lightly. 

“You’re beautiful,” Peter drug his nose up my neck to nip at my lower lip. “The strongest woman on Earth and in Narnia.” If my body weren’t bright red from the complements, my hammering heart against his chest would have given me away. The stomping of hooves stormed the top of the hillside that overlooked the river. Peter was quick to drop me into the water, sinking us into the waves. Telmarines. Damn it, of course. They would ruin this for me. I tugged closer to him; his hands squeezed my hips while mine laced behind his neck and rested my forehead on the crook of his neck. Peter kept a lookout, moving us to shore, quietly getting out.

“Go tell Edmund and Caspian. It’ll take me a minute or two to dress.” I whispered with only my feet in the water. Peter looked down at me, nodding and wrapping a towel around his hips before offering me a towel. I took it and his outstretched hand to balance on the slick river rocks. 

“Will you be alright?” He questioned, looking at the few extra riders.

“Yeah. I have my dagger. Go.” Peter rubbed his hair with his towel and sprinted off, sword on his hip. I quietly and quickly dressed into one of Susan’s purple gowns. I struggled for a moment with the layers. More hooves. I sighed as I yanked on the damn corset ties. Cockblockers fucking up my plans, and honestly, fuck this dress. I should have taken pants and a shirt. I was running out of time, and it was high time I was off to the How. In this dress, they would notice the unnatural color. I collected Peter and I’s belongings and jogged to our now shared room to drop them off. A quick brush of my hair and I was off, sprinting to find Ed and Peter. A thick wall of Narnians blocked my view.

“Catalina,” Peter called me out of my reverie, calling me to the front of the small pack. Narnians flooded out of the How either to the lookout or to the small ground-level entrance. Peter placed his hand on my back as I stood next to him. Edmund, Lucy, Susan, and Caspian stood next to on either side of us.

“Oh fuck,” I mumbled. The breeze on the lookout sent a shiver down my spine—so many people. We were outnumbered. Out powered. _Shit. _Catapults, calvary, footmen, every section having an auxiliary to the auxiliary.

“What do you think?” Peter muttered as a lone rider canted to the front, standing alone in gold amongst cheap metals. Miraz. I brushed my shoulder against Peter’s chest and pressed my lips together.

“I think that we are really going to have to think smart about this one. We’re outnumbered and outpowered.” I whispered, ducking my head. Peter took my hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze. I relaxed and looked forward, glaring at our opponent. Peter’s thumb slid against the back of my knuckles. I let go of his hand, stepping to the edge of the overlook. Too many catapults. Three times as many of our battalions. How did they mobilize so quickly? How long have they been around us in such quantities? We would have noticed that! Miraz looked up at the overlook before pulling his troops away from the How.

“No war cry?” I turned to Caspian, questioning the current traditions of war. It was tradition that armies would produce a war cry, even if there were no battle to fight today.

“It is unusual,” He confirmed. If I were Miraz, I’d not walk so quickly. Perhaps this was the issue. Miraz was rash. Miraz wanted the throne so desperately; he would've had to splinter the Telmarine lords to do this. I grasped my skirts and turned on my toes to look at the royals. 

“Call for a council immediately. Telmar is moving fast, and we need to move quicker than them,” I looked to Reepicheep, “Send some spies out to find where they’re making camp. I want to know everything from a catapult moving to private sneezing in that camp.” Reep nodded and bowed to me as I passed onward. Narnians parted for me as I entered the How again, making my way to the stone table. Peter had followed me down here, taking a seat on the table while I paced. He watched me quietly, just watching. I finally stopped and turned on my heel, looking at him, “What’s the move, High King?” I asked. Peter straightened up, clearly caught off guard with his raised eyebrows.

“I, I don’t know. We’ll send Lucy and Susan into the woods to find Aslan. Lucy saw him on our way here.” His voice was soft, hesitant. Maybe even insecure? I hummed, standing between his legs, taking his hand, brushing his hair out of his face with my other.

“What’s going on in your head, High King?” I whispered. This was the man I had missed, the soft, passionate man who loved his family, his people, and me. This was the man who stayed up late writing proposals and letters while I kept him company.

“Did I ever tell you that Susan and Lucy were the ones with Him when He died?” He brushed the table below him. “They proved themselves to Him.” I opened my mouth in a silent oh, nodding slowly.

“And you don’t think you have?” He shook his blond hair and took my hand that rested along his cheek. His fingers engulfed my small hand with the softest of ease.

“No. I haven’t. Come here,” Peter tugged me to the table where he pulled my thighs over his, “I just hope I can win this for Him.” I nodded quietly as I felt his nose on my neck.

“You know you never have to prove your worth to the lord? He already knows your heart. That’s why he crowned you at such a young- ow! Seriously?” I felt light-headed as Peter bent his neck to bite into the base of my chest gently. He then moved my dress collar to suck a purple mark, licking over it to soothe it. I hummed, tugging his hair sharply. Peter pulled his mouth off of my neck and nosed at the sensitive skin as he grunted. “Are you twelve?” I chuckled breathlessly. Peter pulled one of my legs around his hip and tugged me, so I was sitting on his thighs.

“So, you think He’ll forgive me?” His hands sat on my hips, over my stretch marks, squeezing the extra flesh. I smiled sweetly at him as the mood changed.

“Did you ask?” I asked as my fingers scraped through his hair. Peter groaned at the feeling, head dipping for more.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s finished,” I muttered, kissing his bent forehead.

“What about you?” I dropped my eyes to him, confused by his question.

"Me?” Peter nodded. 

“Do you forgive me? For not listening to you and being an ass?” I giggled as he kissed little kisses along my jawline. I arched into him as he guided me under him.

“When have I not forgiven you? I’ve got a soft spot for you.” I pushed his shoulder with my hand. Peter smirked at me and leaned over me with his arms on either side of my hips. My stomach fluttered in such a wonderful way as I let him move me.

“Why were you so hesitant to love me?” I gave him a weak smile and held his cheek, relishing in the sensation of his skin and stubble under my hand.

“Last time, it was because I was unworthy of your love. Now, it’s because you’re going to leave once we win.”

Peter cocked his head to the side, “Leave?”

“You know who Aslan is, as do I,” I took a deep breath. “I can’t allow myself to love a man who isn’t mine.” Peter’s jaw clenched tightly.

“No, we’re soulmates. I was yours the second I came out of the womb. I was yours the second you entered into my camp. Most certainly, the minute you started yelling at me.” Peter placed his hand over my left, wrapping around my ring finger. “Soulmates never part. I’ll see you in Aslan’s country, nevertheless.” I smiled while I squeezed his hand.

“Perhaps it’s time that I admit that you’re right.” Peter chuckled at me and placed his forehead on mine, brushing his nose against mine.

“You’re worth the wait.” Peter brushed his lips against mine, kissing me gently. I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck.

"Peter, I love you.” Peter smiled and kissed me again. His lips soft and sweet against mine. He pulled away, and I followed the smooth jawline to his neck with my lips. 

“I love you, Catalina Pevensie.” I pulled away from his neck and brushed my fingers over his cheekbones. 

“Repeat it,” I whispered. Peter cracked a tantalizing smile. 

“I love you?” I shook my head, biting my lip. His eyes widened, the smile widening. “High Queen Catalina Pevensie, the Divine.” He brushed his nose against mine and kissed me, my hands grabbing his hair to stabilize myself. I gasped quietly as he squeezed my ass closer to him before pulling away. Lucy was giggling in the halls with Reep as they came nearer to the room.

“Shit,” I giggled, shoving at Peter’s shoulder. “Get off.” Peter grinned widely and let go of my hands, only to shift to his side and pin me to the table. “Fuckin’ ass,” I wheezed out, smacking his shoulder blade gently. I could feel his laughs against my chest, vibrate. He shifted after the third smack, snatching my hand and pulling me up with him. I laughed with him, reaching out to fix his wayward hair before I set mine.

“You love me.” He teased as he hopped off the table. I shook my head as Lucy and Reep entered the room just as I finished fixing my dress.

“Uh-huh, sure.” I teased. As Narnians filtered in slowly, Peter chuckled. Lucy and Reep came in first, followed by Susan and Caspian. She had it for him, and he had it worse. I couldn’t blame him. She was beautiful. Edmund was last and dumped a map down in front of me. The clearing was set up with pawns and markers.

“Where did we get these from?” I picked one up to examine the wood carving.

“I did them,” Nightbrooke spoke up from beside me. Caspian picked up the little Miraz and examined it.

“Miraz killed my father,” Caspian mumbled. “And tried to kill me.” I looked over at him as I placed down the little archer piece in my hand.

“We’re out maned, outpowered,” I spoke up, the room becoming silent. “But if it took us invading the castle for Miraz to ascend to power, I can’t imagine him being very popular. His only in was being the last blood link to the throne. His council only supports him because of tradition. This means either his generals want the throne, his lords want the throne, or they want you to have the throne. We need to stress those fractures as much as possible.” I wondered aloud as Narnians finished filing in. Edmund nodded next to me before picking up Susan and Lucy's pawns and placing them in the woods. “So, new game plan,” I spoke as Caspian opened his mouth, confused at my move. “We’re sending Lucy and Susan out to find Aslan as we hold the Telmarine focus with battle.”

“Cakes and kettledrums! That’s your next big plan? Sending a little girl alone into the darkest parts of the forest alone?” Trumpkin spoke up next to Lucy.

“It’s our only chance,” Peter spoke up. I squeezed his hand under the table. 

“And she won’t be alone,” Susan spoke up next to Caspian. Peter dragged his thumb over my knuckles.

“Haven’t enough of us died?” Someone pipped up.

“We have to hold them until the girls can get to Aslan.” I snapped my eyes open at an odd thought.

“Caspian,” I looked at him with curiosity. “The Telmarines, I was told once that they had a tradition of one on one combat.” Caspian nodded, everyone, staring at me.

“That could work. Miraz as king is held to the traditions and expectations of my people.”

“I’m sorry? One on one?” Edmund spoke up.

“If we can get Miraz to agree, we can challenge him to a duel between Caspian, Peter, you, or myself. The winner takes all.” I paused and took a deep breath. “However, if they are even the slightest bit fractured,” I trailed off.

“Then they’ll cheat.” Edmund finished with a nod. “Who’ll fight against Miraz?” Caspian looked at Peter.

“It should be you.” I narrowed my eyes at him, questioning Caspian. “You’re the better swordsman.” Caspian went on to defend his statement.

“I agree. It can’t be Caspian.” Peter glanced at me, nodding. He knew as well as I did that if he died, Narnia would need Caspian. I squeezed his hand.

“Edmund, will you get Miraz to agree?” Edmund nodded at me.

“You’ll need a party to go with you.” Caspian’s tutor spoke up.

“I’ll take Glennstorm, Wimbleweather, and Catalina.” I nodded to Edmund. 

“Just like old times, eh?” Edmund rolled his eyes at my antics before cracking a small grin with Peter, who nodded. We finished hashing out battle plans, making a few contingency plans to review with Peter later. It would take a massive miracle for us to win; thankfully, we had Aslan on our side.


	8. Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment or a kudos!

“Tell me, Lady Catalina and Prince Edmund-” Miraz sat forward in his chair, creaking slightly as Edmund rolled up the parchment from Peter. 

“King.”

“General.” Edmund and I corrected simultaneously. Miraz and his lords were hesitant to allow both of us into the tent, forcing us to leave most of our party outside. However, they underestimated my presence, not really understanding my position. How would they? It was complicated at best. 

“My title is General Catalina. Or General Winchester. I’m not picky.” I clarified. “And it’s King Edmund. Peter’s the High King.”

“It’s confusing, we know.” Edmund finished. I smirked at Miraz’s confused face. 

“Why would we risk this when our army can wipe you out by nightfall?” I stood silent as Edmund rebutted every statement from the Telmarines with wit. All of the Pevensies could keep up with Edmund’s sass, but nobody could match his quick wits. Those quick wits made him an excellent swordsman and an even better diplomat. I was just the general. 

“You should have little to fear.” Miraz scoffed at Edmund's words. My lips lifted into a smirk as Miraz's men recoiled. They didn't talk to their king like I spoke to mine. They spoke to theirs to keep a smile on his face and to appease his ambitions—Cowardous sheep to their own demise.

“This is not a question of bravery.”

“Then you should have little to fear.” Edmund quipped back. Miraz's general to his left leaned forward to speak, anxious. 

“Sire, our military advantage alone gives us the perfect excuse-” Excuse? I narrowed my eyes. What excuse did Miraz need? What was failing within their borders? Miraz jumped up, pulling his sword off the table and lifting it, intimidating his general. I gave Edmund a curious look. Miraz is eager to make an impact. It was on par with my assumptions of him. Power-hungry. 

“I’m not avoiding anything!” Miraz hissed. Self-conscious of his power. 

“I’m merely pointing out that his majesty is well within his rights to refuse.” He bowed his head in mock respect. He was a snake if I had ever seen one slither. Most of Miraz and the lordships were poor at hiding their slithering forms from Edmund and myself.

“His Majesty would never refuse. He relishes the chance to show his people the bravery of their new king.” A voice from the entrance pulled us to him. I looked over to the Telmarine General, who nodded to Miraz. He was not a loud slithering creature. Did he genuinely believe in Miraz's abilities? Or did he believe in Caspian's? I would have to keep an eye on the curly-haired man on the field. Miraz pointed his sword to us and spoke.

“You best hope that your betrothed’s sword is sharper than his tongue, General Catalina,” I smirked at him and placed my hands on my hips. Maybe it was the way I felt in my skin-tight leathers and thigh-high boots; perhaps it was the way my hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and swished, maybe it was the fact that I was the most powerful woman in the room. But I smirked and did the best thing I knew how to do, talk.

"My _Husband's_ sword is not the sword you should be worried about. It's mine." I winked and pivoted towards the entrance, purple cape fluttering behind me. I could hear the murmurs of his lords behind me, appalled in the fact that a.) I had just turned my back on their king when exiting, and b.) I dared to threaten their king with my own sword while winking or c.) the fact that I was the High King's wife and didn't carry the title with it. I made eye contact with the Telmarine general with curly hair and solemnly nodded, gaining one in return. Not enough to be noticed, but enough to reveal a slithering beneath the surface.

* * *

Susan and Caspian, and Lucy met us outside the How. “Did he accept?” Caspian asked. 

“Yes,” Edmund responded from a few paces behind me. I pushed forward and wandered through the rooms to find Peter hunched over a map of the How and mock groups of fighters. I leaned against the door frame and smirked.

“High King, Miraz has agreed to duel you.” Peter’s eyes snapped up and gave my body a once over, clearly enjoying my ensemble much more than Miraz's lords did. I pushed off the wall and sat on the table next to him. “Wasn’t too happy about it, though. Nor was he eager to participate.” I bit my lip and ran my fingers up his bare forearms.

“I’m not sure it was because of Edmund’s persuasive remarks.” Peter leaned forward and kissed me slowly, but with a force that left me breathless. I pulled away and let him brush my hair off my neck. 

“The Telmarines won’t keep their word," I mentioned breathlessly. "Too much is at stake for Telmar to lose. And I might have said something about my swordsmanship being better than yours.” Peter detached his lips from my neck and chuckled, standing to height.

"Better swordsman?" He scoffed and slapped my thigh lightly, sending shivers down my spine before he yanked me to the edge of the table to slot his hips between my legs. "I'd like to see you try, general." His nose brushed against mine. 

"Is that a challenge, High King?" I scoffed with a little giggle. Peter shook his head and brought his lips to my ear.

"Don't act cute, baby girl." I gasped and shut my eyes at the nickname. "And word of advice, don't start something you cannot finish." He smacked the side of my ass, the shock waves going down my spine, and a whimper fell from my lips. "Where's your sword?" He walked away from me, grabbing his own from the corner. I smirked and slid off the table. I turned to the side and bent over to tighten my boot laces and give him just a little show. 

"My room. Meet you out front in a few?" I rolled up, smirking at his eyes glued to my round ass. 

"Are you going to change?" I giggled at him and strutted over to him, fingers scratching over his Adam’s apple.

"Why? Want to let the entire Narnian and Telmarine armies know that I can kick your ass in a dress or naked?" Peter snatched my hand in his and kissed my wrist; butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I sashayed away to retrieve my sword.

"What on Earth are you two doing?" Susan shouted at the pair of us on the lawn. Peter smirked at me before looking at Su.

"Teaching her a lesson!" He hollered back. Teaching me a lesson? Ha! That would be funny when I had him on the ground with my sword on his neck. "She's not always right."

"Tear him apart, Diana!" Ed shouted. We drew swords and circled each other slowly. Narnians had paused all activities to wander outside to observe the commotion, and glints of Telmarine spies could be seen emerging from the tree line.

"Last time I checked, High King, I have always been right." I joked. 

"Quit talking and fight!" The DLF shouted. I looked at him and shouldn't have. Peter saw his opportunity to strike and lazily jabbed at me. I blocked and parried back at his legs. We played by old Narnian fight rules. Frist blood or tap out. Peter slowly stopped my stab and brought his sword down over his head. I bent my knees, ready for the impact, and slid my grip so my blade was facing parallel to my forearm. I placed both hands on it and felt the clank of the metals down to my forearms. I already felt the sweet burn in my arms before we locked up and clenched my jaw tight as if that would renew my strength. I saw Peter shift his hips, gearing himself for an attack while our swords were locked within their respective hilt guards. I quickly moved closer to him, spinning my back into his chest and elbowing his diaphragm. I circled out and lifted my sword, ready for the offensive wave Peter would bring. His locks started to cling to his forehead as he bent over for breath. 

"Come on, old man, I thought you'd have more in you." I teased, huffing slightly. Peter chuckled and stood up.

"More than you have, darling." I lunged at him, aiming for his feet, not expecting the cat-like leap over my blade. I turned only to feel his hilt into the right side of my back. I grabbed his forearm and pulled him down into the dirt with me, his body stumbling on top of mine. The edge of his sword scratched my wrist. I hissed and wrapped my legs around his hips while he was still disoriented and grunted with the effort of flipping him on his back. I removed our swords from our grasps and pinned his hands. 

"You're cute pinned like this," I muttered to Peter, who flushed slightly. "What, cat got your tongue?" I giggled before my smile dropped. Peter was too calm with me on his lap. 

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Peter twisted his arms out to grab my thighs, slamming me on my front with a knee to my back. "Forfeit, love." I grasped some loose dirt in my hand and placed the other in the ground next to my chest. I rolled over, throwing the dust into his eyes and twisted my hips, and lifting my hands in front of my face, open palm.

I took my opportunity from the distraction and kicked his knee. Peter grinned and opened his eyes. So, he had let me squirm out of his grasp. I heaved a quick breath as Peter caught my ankle in his grip. He pulled, but I was flexible. I allowed him to move my foot up higher before his thigh was exposed. I jumped on to it, using it as a kickstand to twist out of. The move would be ungraceful and unrehearsed, but to beat someone as good as me, I had to bust out the risky moves.

Edmund hollered from somewhere as I landed in the dirt, the wind knocked out of me. I gasped and rolled out of the way to where I thought my sword laid and hoped Peter was slower at the recovery than me. Sweat danced down my face, and I could feel snot coming down too. I stood up with ringing in my ears, fighting to push air down far enough into my lungs. Peter narrowed his eyes at me and said something that I missed. I shook my head and wiped my runny nose on my forearm. Blood coated my arm, and I froze. I had lost? Impossible. I had him beat. I looked down at our swords in the dirt, choosing to slide his over to him. I lifted my own sword and could feel the cheers of the Narnians around me. 

"I'm not forfeiting yet." I was stubborn, and that saved me plenty of times on the battlefield. This would be no exception. Peter nodded, his eyebrows drawn in concern for me. My nose would hurt like a bitch once the adrenaline wore off, but for now, I was too high to feel shit. I attacked him with a sloppy thrust to only be pulled in and locked in a hold. My sword sat at his neck, and his sat-on mine. Blood trickled down and blended with the sweat bead into the neckline of his tunic. The Narnians cheered once more as Peter smiled and lowered his sword, bowing his head to me.

I had won. I sheathed my own sword and smiled at Peter when he got a glimmer in his eye. I could hear Edmund and Lucy cheering for me, but I could only lift an eyebrow at my husband. Peter smirked and grabbed my forearm to pull me in close and kiss me, claiming me in front of the now deafening audience. I gasped into his mouth as he wiggled his tongue into my mouth. My fingers went into his hair as I let him kiss me for a moment longer before pulling away for air, whistles echoing in the field as his hand grabbed a handful of my ass. I shook my head into his chest, hiding from my people for the first time. Peter wrapped me up in his arms and laughed loudly as he raised his sword, relishing in his own victory. I might have beat him on the battlefield, but he still owned my heart—a fair trade. Peter kissed my forehead and stayed his sword. 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Peter brushed his knuckle over my cheekbone and looked at Lucy, who had already unscrewed her cordial. I stiffened. 

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad!" I laughed. "It isn't broken." Lucy shook her head and poked it. Something shifted, pinching and gushed out a new wave of blood. I twitched and shrugged. "See? It doesn't hurt!" Peter placed his hand on my hip. 

"Diana, your nose is bent." Lucy held up her cordial. "Open up, or I'll get Ed and Pete to help you do it." I rolled my eyes and let Peter sit me down on a boulder. I tilted my head back and let her drop the warm liquid into my mouth. As soon as my shoulders relaxed, Peter pushed my nose straight and allowed the fire flower to the rest of the work. I looked up at Peter and Lucy as the little cuts on my body healed. 

"Better?" Peter crouched next to me and took my hand. I could breathe now through my nose at this angle.

"Better." Peter stood and pulled me back into the How for a private victory celebration between the two of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have left comments!


	9. War of the Beasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Comment! Leave Kuddos! I love to hear from y'all!

I wondered through the How looking for my husband. He didn't come to dinner, and not even Edmund had seen him. I walked past the room with the stone table inside and froze. A mop of blonde hair rose slightly above the tilted edge of the table. He was staring at the portrait of Aslan. Oh, dear. I held the soup bowls for us up and moved to sit on the floor next to Peter's step. 

"You missed dinner," I whispered. Peter nodded and took the bowel, swirling the contents around. "Talk to me, Pete." I placed my bowl away from me and leaned on his thigh. He handed me the bowl and slid off the step to slide behind my body, allowing his legs on either side of my torso. His arms tightened around my waist to pull my back against his chest.

"I don't want to lose you again." He mumbled into my hair. I let him lean around me to pick up my bowl and hold it to my hands to take. "Eat." I shifted in his lap and looked up at him, offering a spoonful to his lips. "I'm not a child." He smiled weakly while opening his mouth to consume the food. We alternated bites as we sat in silence. I ate the last bit of food and placed the bowl to the side. 

"Do you want more?" Peter shook his head before dropping it into the crook of my neck. "Honey, tell me what is going on in your pretty head." I lifted his hand and kissed it. 

"Stay close to me tomorrow on the battlefield," Peter muttered. "I can't lose you before I have to." I nodded and kissed his jaw. 

“I love you, High King. Regardless of what is going to happen or what may happen." I nosed his jaw and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth. "I pray Aslan comes tomorrow. I haven't heard much from him, only in simple directions." Peter sighed against my skin. 

"He won't abandon us, much less his daughter. Don't worry. He will come through." Even with Peter's assurance, I wasn't sure if I believed his affirmation, and I doubted how much he believed in his own assertions. Tomorrow we would fight, and we could only hope that Aslan would deliver us. 

“Peter, Miraz is in position. Are you ready?” I leaned against the wall of the dark and humid room, watching Peter and Edmund review last-minute plans. The sweat dripping down their foreheads just as much as mine drenched my undertunic. Peter looked at Edmund and said something under his breath. Edmund nodded and left, nodding in my direction. I nodded back, clasping his shoulder in passing as I sauntered closer to Peter. The clanking sound flagged the issue of improper wearing of my armor, but I did my best. I had never worn armor like this before. I only wore light chain bits and bulky leather braces to battles.

“Did you put on your chain link yourself?” Peter sassed me. I rolled my eyes and twirled for him, showing off my heavy link over my leather braces. 

“Is it that bad?” Peter nodded and pulled me closer to him to fix it. I blushed as his hands moved quickly over my hips and black leather corset to settle the underlayers of armor, savoring the warmth seeping into my body.

“Stop looking worried. We’ll get through this. We always do.” Peter kissed my cheek, and I pressed my forehead against his. Today we would fight together for our people; tomorrow, we would be home alone once more. I brushed his cheek with my thumb.

“I just don’t want you to leave me again,” I whispered. Peter sighed.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Peter kissed me on the forehead before wrapping his arms around my body. Edmund popped his head back inside. I whimpered quietly into the crook of Peter’s neck as Edmund spoke.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt. It’s time.” Peter nodded with thanks to Edmund before slowly letting me go. I inhaled slowly as I took Peter’s sword to carry. 

“High Queen?” I turned to look at Peter. “Stay close today.” I kissed his cheek and took his hand until we got to the entrance of the How. The army’s cheers were deafening. The weight of the chain-link felt good on my shaking body. I was ready for this; I reminded myself. I was born to protect these people. The only thing that was missing was Aslan, yet I had faith he would still show up. Peter tugged my hand, pulling me forwards. Together, we sprinted out of the How, the Narnians deafening in their support and adrenaline. I could feel the thirst for justice drip into my veins, fueling me as I looked upon Miraz’s men. He would die today if I had any part in this operation, even if it meant bending the rules. I would not lose my husband like this. I would not let my people suffer anymore.

The clashing of metals was louder than I remembered from my first trip to Narnia. I tried not to pay too much attention to the fight between Miraz and Peter. The movements are fast and thoughtful as they spared. Miraz knocked Peter to the ground and stepped on his shield as Peter rolled away, dislocating his shoulder. I grunted and glared at Peter, hoping that it was enough to get him up. He and Miraz spoke for a minute before coming to their own corners. They both carried their limps in different parts of their bodies. Sweat dripping down their foreheads from the insistent heat that was intensified from all the armor. My leggings stuck uncomfortably to my thighs from my own sweat. Peter reached out to me with his right arm, allowing me to swing under his arm and support him. Sweet Aslan, the _stench _of it all. I wrinkled my nose.

“How’s the shoulder?” I spoke as my hand brushed down Peter’s sweaty neck and over to his injured shoulder. Peter clutched his arm, grunting. I could feel the bump of his bone under my fingers and his armor. “Ed!” I hollered while pushing Peter over into a chair to let Edmund feel under Peter’s armor. 

“I think it’s dislocated,” Peter huffed, staring into the Telmarine army before us. Miraz’s men wrapped his own wounds. I crouched in front of him, placing my hands over his knee. The once sparkling blue eyes dulled into a morphed thousand-yard stare. “What do you think will happen if you die here? You know you know you’ve always been there. I never really-AH!” A snap came before Peter bent over with pinched eyes, holding his shoulder. 

“Save it for later, Pete.” Edmund walked away, leaving Peter and myself. Peter glanced down at me. The look he gave me made my heart clench.

“Can you-” Aslan, please steady him. I closed my eyes and shook my head, the baby hairs catching and sticking to my face. 

“Save it for later, Pete.” I shoved him his helmet and helped him stand up. “Go end this so we can get to the real show.” He raised his eyebrows high upon his face. “His lords are plotting something; I can see it on their face. Just focus on the fight, and I’ll try and get ahead of him to plan if it’s something we haven’t already seen coming.” He nodded, glancing at the Telmarine army again. I took his arm. “Hey, stop that,” He didn’t look at me, so I turned his cheek and kissed him. His mouth worked quickly to take the kiss- our possible last kiss. I shoved the thought down as I broke the kiss. Narnians hollered at us in joy at our outright display of affection. My back arched to feel the hot metal through my own, my hand on his cheek. He tapped his forehead against mine gently, my blood warming and flourishing at the action. “Win for me so I can kiss you later,” I whispered, enjoying the way Peter’s eyes crinkled and how I could feel the smirk his lips had lifted into. I could hear the clank of his helm on stone as I walked next to Edmund.

“I’ve never seen grown men so rattled on a battlefield before because of a woman.” Ed’s words made my neck burn in embarrassment. 

“They obviously don’t know who I am,” I smirked, watching Miraz and Peter circle each other without their full armor.

“What? A heathen woman?” Edmund smirked. A snigger rose to my own lips.

“Just call me Lilith,” I responded. A calm settled on my chest as a breeze brushed through my hair. This felt right. This felt good. A voice pinched the nerves on the back of my neck, my body swinging around looking for Him. Edmund’s face fell as Peter took a hard hit, a clanging ringing out.

_Why do you have no faith, young one?_

A shiver trickled down my spine. Aslan. I had never heard his voice spoken so clearly before. It typically was just said inside of my head like another inner consciousness- not this time. I snapped my head back around, catching a Telmar lord shifting. A red arrowhead lighting up in the bright sun. Edmund and Caspian were oblivious. I just had to trust that Susan would keep her bow loose until we began our plan. Susan shifted up on the ledge, uncomfortable, as Caspian left Edmund’s side. I turned and helped Peter retrieve his forgotten helmet as Caspian walked to the kneeling Miraz. Peter took his helm from me and brushed against my arm.

“How do you feel?” I looked up at Peter as Caspian spoke to Miraz. He huffed and placed his hands on his hips as he stood next to Edmund. He was annoyed, tired, most likely hungry if he was anything like I was.

“Ask me when we win.” He sassed.

“Fair enough.” Caspian let out a loud war-cry as he shoved his sword down into the dirt patch in front of Miraz, a merciful king. I nodded to the merciful king as he walked away from Miraz, glaring. The lord with the arrow helped Miraz up, mumbling something as he stabbed Miraz under his armor. An impossible shot, but not unattainable by one archer on this field. 

“Oh shit.” Peter took my hand at the sound of my voice. He squeezed and let go. 

“Treachery! They shot him! They shot him!” Miraz lay dead on the ground. I stared at his brown eyes that faded into nothing. Funny how the dead always still looked alive.

“Caspian, go!” Edmund shoved the now King forward towards the How. I raised my sword to my King’s army and gave a war cry as I turned to the Telmarines. With deafening war cries behind me, Peter was counting quietly next to Edmund and myself. I watched their catapults prep, and their men shift. I bit my lip. I knew what those catapults were capable of, and we didn’t have the men to win on our own.

_Why do you have such little faith, young one? _

But we wouldn’t be alone for much longer. The Telmarines made their advances as we waited for our cavalry to make their advances. Screams pierced my ears as their cavalry fell into the pit. I went into autopilot. Peter lifted his sword and did his war cry. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled. 

“You always say that.” Edmund jabbed.

“It’s because it’s true, little brother.” I jabbed back. The archers released their arrows over the field and struck the Telmarines. Their men moved around to create a semi-circle and began to unleash their men in organized rows. I swallowed my fears and steeled myself as I allowed a Telmarine to come to me. I blocked his advances and dodged his blows before finding his kink in the armor and shoving my blade deep into it, watching the life drain from his eyes. I felt a pair of eyes on me and turned to see a hulking man. He was stalking me, slow and self-assured. And slow. I twirled my sword, lifting onto my toes. He might be strong, but I was quick. I’m the woman who won the Giant War. 

“Susan!” Peter was shouting towards his sister, but I knew better than to look at this moment. I unleashed a yell and sprinted towards him. He lifted his sword and jabbed, my body slinking around the blade’s edge to slam the hilt of my sword into the nose bridge of his helm. He wrapped his leg around my ankle and swept me to the dirt. Pain shot through my spine as my lungs involuntarily collapsed. I rolled away from him and sprung to my feet, still clutching my sword. Orious would have been disappointed in me if I had let go of it. I felt the kiss of the blade across my forearm, catching the armor gap. I hissed and grabbed his forearm and twirled under it to pin his arm behind his back. His distraction from the sting in his arm caused him to drop his weapon. I shoved my sword into the back of his neck with a war cry. He collapsed on top of my body, blood seeping on my skin. Disgusting. 

“Catalina!” Susan shouted as she pulled him off of me. I wiped the blood from my mouth and smiled at her. Peter, Edmund, and Caspian covered us as she knelt and helped me up. 

“How’d you get down?” I hissed as she tore a clean cut from her skirts. She bound my armor piece into my skin to prevent shifting and further irritation on my wound. Telmarines surrounded us. We didn’t stand a chance without Aslan. So many dead, and all for what? Hopelessness consumed a part of my heart, clawing away at hope. Aslan just _had _to come. 

“Catapults destroyed the How’s entrance.” She wiped off my face before smiling up towards the How. “Catalina, look!” She cheered while pointing to the trees. They raised their roots high and dug deep to obliterate their catapults. Aslan! I cheered and looked at Peter, beaming. Aslan was back. Peter raised his sword once more and gave one last war cry.

“For Narnia! And, for Aslan!” I cheered with him as he looked at me, frowning. I gave him a thumbs up and lifted my sword as the Telmarines began their retreat. I sprinted to Peter and bumped his shoulder. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I would be in the dirt, passed out from the pain of sore muscles. He took my hand and squeezed it slightly before we took off running. Every step was painful as my lungs ached for space to breathe, and my muscles wanted to quit. Peter would look behind me now and then, taking it all in stride. He obviously kept in shape, me? Not so much. We slowed towards the army as they funneled on to the bridge. 

All was silent sans the murmurings of Telmarines and Narnians in the back. The Telmarines closest to us looked back as we made way to a standoff. Why were they so silent? So nervous? It wasn’t profound, to begin with. 

Aslan’s roar shook down the bridge and rippled the waters, and awoke the river. It bubbled down to a few inches until an immense river spirit awoke and looked down on Miraz’s lord. I’d never met a river spirit before. I had heard rumors, and Lucy was always so fond of everything in Narnia, speaking highly of the old river souls. Water rushed to support the old male spirit; it’s beard rippling as the water moved along its body. With visible watery hands, it lifted the bridge and examined Miraz’s general on his horse. He was shaking, and even from this distance, the Narnians behind us could see the absolute fear in his eyes; blood on his face. With a great roar, the river spirit lifted its mouth open and swallowed him, effectively drowning him and the rest of the bridge. I smiled as I felt the adrenaline taper off and the air thicken in my lungs, sustaining me better than before.

Peter nodded and turned to the Narnians, instructing them on surrender policy and cleaning up for the dead. Aslan stood across the water with Lucy, waiting. Narnians moved around me as Peter and Caspian spoke with Edmund and Susan next to me. But Aslan was here. He stared at me, and within his eyes alone, there was peace. There was calmness. My rapid heart slowed, and my adrenaline returned to its baseline. I should go. But was it appropriate? This was _Aslan_, the king of the woods. King above Peter.

The urge to move struck, my toes wiggling, my fingers twitching. This urge was foolish. The Kings and Queens should see him first before I do. My foot moved forward on their own. Who cares who they were when Aslan was urging me to go to him? That pull was too strong to ignore, and sweet lord, I just wanted to _cry _at the relief my heartfelt. I walked with tunnel vision on Aslan, Lucy off doing something or other that I couldn’t care about when _Aslan, _of all people, wanted to see me first.

I dropped to my knees and leaned forward, so my hands touched my damp forehead. The rocks were uncomfortable digging into my palms but so was my arm guard, digging into my forearm. I held my breath as I waited for him to speak. 

“Rise, daughter of mine.” Tears tipped beyond my eyes as I shook my head. Every action I had ever done to make me unworthy flashed in my mind. I had doubted him. I didn’t deserve-

Aslan breathed softly on my head, my hair dancing in the wind, and a wave of serenity washed over me. I was safe in His presence.

“Rise. Daughter of mine. High Queen Catalina Pevensie, the divine.” I sat up and wiped at my face before standing up. I bowed my head.

“Aslan,” I grinned. “Thank you.” If it were possible, he smiled. 

“You had so much doubt when you arrived. Do you know who I am now?” I looked at my boots and nodded. The holy king. “I know you, well done, good and faithful servant.” He smiled, and it was as if the whole world and worlds outside of this one stopped spinning. The entire universe would bend if Aslan bided it. “Do you still see yourself as a pawn?” His deep voice shook me off of my foundations, and worry seeped into a corner of my heart.

“I,” I took a deep breath. “I was so hurt when Peter left, and when the lords turned on me. I,” Another deep breath before I said something that I didn’t mean. “I didn’t think you cared about me. That the entire time, my people misplaced their belief in me. Peter misplaced his belief in me.” I mumbled the last part, eyes darting to the ground to study the multicolored river rocks of tan and brown and black colors with various shines on them. Some of them were speckled and round; others were thin and flakey. “It was wrong to think that, looking back. You love me regardless of duty and stature. You’ll come when needed; I’d like to think that I have enough faith to believe that much.” Aslan hummed, and I let that familiar pull to look him back in the eyes. He touched his nose to my cheek and the weight that had settled into my bones after the stag hunt, the weight I was so profoundly familiar with that it felt wrong for it to be lifted, peeled off of my bones. 

“My Diana is nothing but faithful and loyal, well done, darling child of mine. Well done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a comment <3


	10. The End?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! 1,000 years later, it's done! There will be one last part of the story! But I hope you drop a kudos or review! Thanks to those who already have and who have kept up with the story! Love, love, love y'all!

_Narnia has perished in fire and water._

There was nothing. No energy, no light. Just black space. This didn’t feel new; it felt like a return to something so old that it was compacted in my bone marrow and danced within my soul. Something was here, but there was nothing now.

_Blood sings to be delivered into her care, and metal declares her prowess over the land._

Two children, a boy, and girl, just barely out of reach of myself, spoke to the Great Lion in the valley. Darkness danced like ink in water along the borderlands as King Frank and his wife spoke near me. While there was light here, something called for more in the borderlands. Something sang from where the kids stood, the darkness curling in response. They had something it wanted. I needed to warn Aslan. It was coming for him.

_In the end, the daydream of royals and good prevailing fell in the ashes of Narnia. _

Catapults launched from the woods towards Cair Paravel. Screams of the innocent trapped in the starts of the genocide. Pleas for Aslan and the courts to save them. What good was praying when it fell on deaf ears who orchestrated it all?

_Don’t make the same mistake twice. Submit to Queen Jadis and her followers._

_Deliver the rings to us or perish._

* * *

I woke up from my sleep, back aching, and heart hammering. Peter’s overshirt stuck to my skin, and my hair was still damp from our shared bath from earlier. I sat up, removing the smoldering covers to cool my body down, feet barely touching the marble floor. Either that was a vision, prophecy, or merely a dream; I wasn’t sure. Regardless, I was scared as hell. Jadis was not done with me. Peter rolled over, toned skin shining in the moonlight. I closed my eyes and pulled my hair off of my skin. 

“Cat? Are you okay?” His voice croaked as his hand slid around to my thigh, thumb tracing my soft skin. I nodded and brought the water cup next to our bed to my lips. 

“It was a vision, prophecy, whatever.” I turned, crossing my legs under me, and looked down at my husband, taking in his tired face as I had done so hours earlier. Peter’s eyes narrowed as he sat up, the sheets falling to his hips. “Jadis isn’t done with me.”

“What happened?” He tugged at my hips to bring me closer to his body so that I sat curled into his torso. I recounted everything I could remember. His body tensed around me and pulled me closer. 

“I have to tell Aslan. If she gets into my world, hell will break loose.” Peter pushed my hair off my neck, kissing it gently.

“Now?” I scoffed at his question.

“God, no. I refuse to put on pants.” Peter grinned and kissed me, slipping his tongue in my mouth, feeling the vibrations of my moan through his own body.

“I’d prefer it if you lost the shirt, actually.” His hand slid under my top as I giggled. Peter’s hand brushed up my stomach before ghosting over my nipple, and before I could help it, I whined. “That’s such a pretty sound,” Peter’s breath brushed over my ear, adding to the stimulation. “Just for me?” I rolled my eyes and bit my lip.

“Only for you, my king.”

* * *

I woke up to a door shutting and deep voices outside my door. I stretched my stiff limbs and rubbed my eyes before standing and pulling on a pair of Peter’s pants. I opened the door to our suite to see Aslan lounging outside of my room. Peter glanced at me, smirking at the little red marks that would be gone within the hour.

“Good morning, Daughter.” Aslan calmly spoke.

“Mornin.” I drawled out before pouring myself tea and sitting next to Peter. His hand claimed my thigh, thumb rubbing over my knee cap. I held my cup with both of my hands and savored the whole feeling from the cup's warmth to Peter’s warm hand to Aslan’s kind eyes. I could have died at that moment the happiest woman in the world.

“Peter was just telling me of the nightmare you had last night.” I raised my eyebrows and finished off my tea. “I have to send you two back to your own times, for this is far from over with the witch. While you two will not return to Narnia, we will see each other again.” I nodded as Peter took my hand. My knuckles were white. At least this time, I would be ready for this. My chest contracted as air caught in my throat. I looked at my lap and blinked slowly. “Diana, speak your mind.” Aslan prompted. I relaxed my hand and looked at Aslan.

“I don’t want to go back,” I whispered. “Nothing feels right there. Not like it does here.” My voice cracked. Aslan stood and walked over to where I was sitting and breathed on me; his warm breath calming me.

“You’re a Queen of Narnia, Catalina. The Diana,” Aslan pressed his forehead against mine. “You’ll find your way, daughter.” My churning stomach calmed as the caught breath in my throat released along with the tension in my shoulders. “Go get ready for the ceremony. Peter, come with me to find your sister.” 

* * *

I stood at the portal with the Kings and Queens as Telmarines went through the portal. The off the shoulder gown kept my body cool in the warm summer air. At least there was a breeze. The last person passed through the tree, a gasp drawing from the crowd. When would Aslan send me over? Would he do it now? 

“How do we know you’re not leading us to our deaths?” A skeptic shouted from the crowd. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. Reep stepped forward and addressed Aslan, willing to bring a few of his people over too. I could see the disapproval come along in Aslan’s eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and squared my shoulders.

“I’m going,” I spoke up and stepped forward. 

“We’ll go too.” Peter stood next to me, glancing at his family while I took his hand. 

“We will?” Edmund glanced at Aslan. Edmund and Lucy were shocked as they had every right to be, but nothing happens the same way twice. Peter squeezed my hand before letting go.

“Come on. Our time’s up.” Peter removed his sword and handed it to Caspian. “Besides,” He looked at me. “We aren’t really needed here anymore.” Caspian took it with a nod.

“I will look after it until you return,” Caspian spoke in reverence. 

“I’m afraid that’s just it- we aren’t coming back,” Susan spoke up. 

“We’re not?” Lucy was dumbfounded in shock. Peter turned to her with longing. 

“You two are, at least I think that’s what he means.” We looked to Aslan, who nodded. We began our goodbyes, myself standing next to Glennstorm. 

“Hey, take care of my army.” He cracked a smile and bowed. 

“A big role to fill, no doubt, but you are the best example anyone could set.” I bowed and moved to Caspian. 

“Will you go back to their time?” I shook his hand. 

“No. I come from a much different time than my family. My own people need me back.” He nodded and let go of my hand. 

“Any last words of advice for me?” I chuckled and looked back at the crowd. 

“Take your time, live in the present, plan for the future, and acknowledge the past. But don’t let it hinder you.” Caspian nodded and bowed his head. I followed suit and turned to the portal, heart pounding in my ears.

“I’m never going to see you again.” Lucy and Edmund flanked my sides, my head turning to acknowledge Lucy’s words.

“We’ll see each other again. It might take a while, but I know we will.” I let them pull me into a group hug, with Susan joining in. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. I won’t cry. I shoved my feelings down and gently shook them off of me, walking to Aslan with my head held high.

“I’m ready to go.” Aslan glanced behind me before shaking his head. 

“It seems you forgot someone.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. I would break. I can’t look at him. I loved him, and with one look, I might crack and couldn’t go back.

“Please don’t make me. I, I really,” I took a deep breath in and huffed. “I can’t.” Aslan nodded and gently breathed on me. My clothes changed into a white tank top tucked into black torn high waisted jeans. A leather jacket covered my arms, and thigh-high boots protected my legs. My hair was curled in a high ponytail.

“Watch out for your friends; they need someone to protect them.” I bowed and then moved to the portal slowly, hands shaking. I touched the tree and felt tears rise to choke at my throat. I sniffled and began to cross the threshold when Peter called out my name. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his chest, kissing me. I kissed him back just as fiercely as he arched my body into his. Tears flowed down my face as I broke the kiss and looked at him. His baby blues were bright with tears. This man had been my rock for so long, and I wanted more time to be with him, to ingrain his touch and persona into my long-term memory.

“I don’t want to leave you again.” I sobbed, clenching his neck.

“I love you, Catalina.” He hugged me tight to his chest, arms wrapping over my lower back. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent.

“I love you, Peter.” I kissed him one last time as he pushed me through the portal. I gasped as I felt his touch disappear. I landed on my bed with a gasp, huffing as if I had just finished a battle. I blinked and felt something tug on my thigh. On my thighs sat twin Narnian daggers. I unsheathed one of them to admire the metalwork. Deep down, my stomach shifted, and an awful feeling settled into my stomach. The distinctive look of a Narnian blade would be substantial, noble, steady. But this was something not so similar. This edge had a twisting edge, gold and scarlet twirling together to create something sickening and frightful. These daggers were not meant for me to keep. These daggers were ceremonial daggers meant for Jadis. I sheathed the one and stowed them under my mattress. I would keep them safe, secure, and clean until Aslan called me to bloodshed. After all, I was the Diana. Where I went, war would follow, and Aslan would be near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! 1,000 years later, it's done! There will be one last part of the story! But I hope you drop a kudos or review! Thanks to those who already have and who have kept up with the story! Love, love, love y'all!


End file.
